


Alpha and Omega

by Zenith_Lux



Series: Through the Ashes [17]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Realities, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Brotherly Bonding, Doomed!Future, F/M, Family Drama, IntotheSpardaVerse, Post BT, Post Divergence, Teenage Demons, Trauma, descriptions of death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:42:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22521202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenith_Lux/pseuds/Zenith_Lux
Summary: After Vergil invites his family to the Underworld, he expects a simple tour of the city and quality time on his side of the universe. But when his wife is struck by nightmarish visions, a mysterious power separates the family into various worlds, each one doomed to fade away. Only by finding the secret behind the "Perfect Paradox" can Vergil save his family. But the sacrifice needed to do so may be too much to bear, especially when he learns that his own ending may have been manipulated from the start.
Relationships: Dante/Lucia, Nero/Kyrie, Vergil (Devil May Cry)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Through the Ashes [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1477619
Comments: 24
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the next official sequel in the Blazing Tempest/Through the Ashes series! I've been super excited to start posting this story, and I really, really hope ya'll enjoy reading it as much as I have writing it!
> 
> For those new to the series who might want to fast track to this one, you've got a few options. One is to read my super condenced summary to everything from Blazing Tempest to now, which you can find [Here](https://zenithlux.tumblr.com/post/190650166544/bt-catch-up-guide)! The other option if you want to catch up the old fashioned way, the most important stories are Blazing Tempest, Solitude and Solidarity, and Divergence. Everything else adds to the characters (and brings in a few, smaller characters), but are mostly fluff and good feels.
> 
> From here on out, updates will be on Mondays, but I wanted to post this one at the beginning of [SpardaVerseWeek](https://twitter.com/Spardaverseweek), as the plot itself was majorly inspired by the "alternate reality" concept. So thank you to the mastermind behind that idea, and check out the other stories posted there!
> 
> Enjoy!

Ashira knew she was dreaming, but she didn’t know why no one had bothered to wake her up.

It was the fifth time in the last month that she’d opened her eyes to nothing but thousands of tiny, multi-colored stars. Thirteen feathers circled around her, each one colored to represent each of her progenitors. Her own had replicated, as a second one hovered just above her palm in a fruitless attempt to illuminate the nothingness around her. None of the Phoenixes had spoken to her in this dream, nor had she been able to reach them. All she could do was wait.

_“You are the end.”_

The voice was not one she recognized beyond this dream, nor had it ever given her a name. It was neither male nor female, but something caught between. She could imagine a deity of some kind, but those were never more than ancient demons who had done enough to have elaborate stories told about them. 

_“You shouldn’t be here.”_

Ashira had yet to figure out how those two statements correlated. The end would imply that she was actually finishing something, though she couldn’t imagine what. And she wasn’t choosing to come to this place. In fact, she would be much happier if she didn’t see it ever again. She had too much to do and too much on her mind to be essentially quarantined because no one knew when she might pass out again. 

_“But you might be enough…”_

_‘Enough for what?’_ She wanted to scream, but her voice didn’t exist here. And the other entity was impassive, deadpanned, and gave nothing away. Every time Ashira came here, she was left with more questions, and even less answers. 

_“Find the Angel of the Night.”_

Ashira blinked. That was new. But why? What did it mean? She’d never heard of that title, especially not among reavers. And “angel” was another problem entirely. They were fabrications of the human mind, usually brought on by sightings of attractive demons with feathered wings. A demon calling itself one was either incredibly vain or had simply accepted the title. Not unlike herself, she supposed. With how many people referred to her simply as “the Phoenix,” Ashira could imagine how easy it would be to forget her own name if she were not close to those who preferred it. 

_“Leave.”_

She expected to slip from the dream, and wake up with a searing headache and everyone in the palace shouting orders to keep others away. Instead, the feathers vanished. The stars began to flicker out. One. Two. Ten. Hundreds. Thousands disappeared in an instant, leaving her in unrelenting darkness. A prickle of panic overtook her. _Vergil._ She reached for his soul, but felt nothing. She never had in one of these dreams… but she’d never gotten this far. 

A scream burst from all directions. Ashira grabbed her ears as she crumbled to her knees. But the terrified sound didn’t relent. It only got louder and louder, reverberating in her very bones. As it pulsed in her eardrums, the pressure in her head was nearly unbearable. 

_Crack._

Her body exploded in pain. She thrashed in agony, but no sound left her lips. In the distance, a figure in blue trudged toward her. _Vergil!_ She reached for him, desperate. But when he stopped, the normally fierce blue eyes that met her were gray and vacant. Blood dripped from under his jacket. Yamato was nowhere to be found. _A nightmare._ She thought. _This has to be…._

A vine burst from his chest, as both he and his heart crumbled at her feet.

Ashira snapped awake with a scream. Vergil’s soul rushed to meet hers as his hand grabbed her own. “Breathe,” He said. She barely heard him through her disoriented mind. “Shira.” He towered over her now, and she felt him press against her shoulder. When she finally caught his gaze, the dream him flickered in her mind- a sensory onslaught that she couldn’t stop. “I’m here,” he whispered as he lifted her hand to meet his cheek. And finally - whether it was the cool touch of his skin on her own, or her brain finally catching up with her body - her heart slowed. Vergil pressed his forehead to hers, silently guiding her breathing with his own. Ashira forced herself to focus until her heartbeat was closer to his; not perfect, but calm enough. 

“It isn’t a dream,” Morpheus muttered. The dream-reaver’s soul was exhausted, and Ashira was certain he’d been dragged out of bed, likely by Vergil himself. That had been the plan, as Morpheus was the only one who could possibly help her. At least, in theory. “Or a nightmare. I couldn’t extract it.”

Vergil frowned but didn’t move. “It’s not a vision,” He said quietly. “At least… not of the future.”

“I’m sorry I can’t offer any more assistance.”

“It keeps getting longer,” It hurt to speak, and Vergil’s grip tightened between her fingers. “I… keep hearing...” She trailed off as a very quiet ‘ _stop’_ echoed in the back of her mind. 

Ashira heard the ruffling of Morpheus’s robes and imagined him bowing to them both. “Now that I’ve seen this for myself, I will try and track down any information that I can. Send for me if this happens again.” 

Ashira heard their door close a moment later, followed by Vergil’s quiet sigh. “Where was I?” She said. Her memory of the collapses was always a bit hazy, but it never took too much to lift it. 

“You were playing the piano,” Vergil said. “Priscilla found you.”

Ah yes. The only time in almost forever that she’d dared to go further than two hallways away from this room. “It’s been almost a week.” Ashira said. “I thought I was fine.”

“We both did.” While his voice was calm, Ashira could hear the pain behind his words. She’d made him promise weeks ago not to blame himself for the attacks, but she knew he did anyway. At least, he felt responsible for not yet finding a cure. “You can’t leave the palace.”

She forced herself upright, grateful when he helped her up without letting go. “I’m not canceling on our family.” Ashira said. “They’ll only be here for a few days. Surely I can manage that.”

Vergil’s frown deepened. “I hadn’t planned on them leaving the palace much anyway. Not on their first visit.” Again, Ashira could sense his anxiety under his cool demeanor. Though he’d been quietly panicking about his family’s visit since Nero had asked about it over two months ago; long before Ashira’s sudden illness. Not only had the request caught them both off guard, but the twins (namely Angelica) had begged to go with him. That, of course, had gotten Dante involved “just in case”. Now all four of them were waiting for Pythagoras’s door to open again. Apparently, the Sparda family was quite curious at what she and Vergil did on this side of the barrier. 

Ashira still remembered the blade Dante got to the gut when he had jokingly said that Vergil was too much of a hard-ass to rule with anything but an iron fist. 

“Vergil…” She drew her fingers along his chin to draw his gaze back to hers. “I’ll be alright.”

“Even V can’t predict them,” Vergil said. “I can’t pull you out. I can’t join you. And now you’re watching me…” 

_“Saina.”_

He fell silent, and she pulled him closer for a gentle, reassuring kiss. “It’s going to be okay,” She whispered against his lips. His fingers twitched in the telltale signs of protest, but she kissed him again. “We have to keep moving forward, or we’ll never make any progress.”

Another quiet sigh. Then, he nodded. “Rest.” He eased her back against the pillows. “I’ll deal with everything else.”

“If you need…”

“Sleep, Shira.”

She couldn’t help but smile as he tucked the blanket around her. Shadow appeared, smaller than usual, and curled up on her chest. The panther’s weight and warmth alone lulled Ashira back towards sleep; real and genuine rest. “Don’t stay out too late,” She teased. Vergil rolled his eyes, and Ashira swore she felt his lips on her forehead before he vanished, too fast for her tired mind to follow. 

* * *

Nero wasn’t sure what compelled him to check on Kaiden at that exact moment. Honestly, Nero had plenty of other things to deal with. Packing for himself. Making sure Kyrie was ready with everything she could possibly want. Food, extra money, phone numbers of every helpful person in the city… anything he could think of. And Kyrie had teased him over it (“you’re only leaving for a week”), but thanked him all the same. 

Then there was Angelica, who was determined to pack every electrical thing she could find, including her phone, a hair-dryer, and even a lamp at some point. The phrase “no the Underworld does not have wi-fi” had left Nero’s mouth more times than he cared to admit. Kyrie had eventually intervened on that one, and Angelica’s four suitcases were eventually whittled down to one small duffel bag and her custom made sword.

But through all of this - three full days of chaos - Kaiden had been quiet. The sixteen-year-old had been physically present at all meals and conversations, but Nero could tell his mind was elsewhere. Kyrie had tried talking to him, but Kaiden always assured her he was fine before drifting back to his room. Even with Iris around, Kaiden had distanced himself, preferring to talk to her in private or tap away at the piano in the basement. And Nero had tried to casually pry information from her, but Iris had just given him that _look._ The teenage equivalent of “stay out of it, old man”, and that was that. 

Kaiden was what Nero imagined Vergil would have been like had everything gone right. Though that thought led to an uncomfortable amount of other possibilities - one of which was the fact that Nero might not have been born in the first place - so he didn’t linger on it for too long.

“Hey champ,” Nero said with a knock on the door. He heard the rustling of papers, followed by a loud thud. After a long string of words in Kaiden’s special language, the door swung open. 

“Father,” Kaiden said awkwardly as he tugged at the sleeves of his jacket. Like Vergil, Kaiden preferred a formal style, and it had taken almost a decade to convince him that a suit and tie (or an _ascot_ of all things) was not typical, human attire. Now, he wore a long, dark purple coat eerily similar to Vergil’s old blue one that was packed away in a closet somewhere, functional dress pants, and matching gloves. Today, however, his hair was a complete mess, his white undershirt was wrinkled, and legs of his pants seemed to be two different sizes. 

Nero raised an eyebrow, uncertain if he should be concerned by his son’s unusual look, or the massive pile of books that he had clearly stolen from Pythagoras’ library. “I’m packed and ready to leave,” Kaiden said as he buttoned his cufflinks; a part of his attire that Nero had never managed to talk him out of. 

“Does Pythy know about your… collection?”

Kaiden’s face flushed a deep crimson. “Probably?”

Nero chuckled. “Well?” He gestured to the books. “What are you looking for?”

Kaiden shifted uncomfortably, not meeting Nero’s gaze. “Lots of things.”

_If only Shy was here,_ Nero thought. She could pry practically anything out of Kaiden, as he was always more comfortable conversing in their shared language. Both Nero and Kyrie had attempted to learn it, but neither Shy nor Kaiden were capable of teaching it. Even Vergil, one of the non-Pheonixes who could speak it, told Nero it was likely impossible for someone outside of that connection to truly understand it. Iris herself had even started picking it up, and Nero was certain she had no formal instruction on the matter. But Nero had tried his best to make Kaiden feel comfortable with them. But, while Kaiden never expressed it, Nero was certain the teen felt alienated for reasons Nero hadn’t figured out.

It didn’t help that Angelica had practically stumbled into her demon form, while Kaiden was barely able to control his feathers.

“Humor me,” Nero said. 

Kaiden sighed as he wandered back to his books. “Most of it is on half-demons,” He said, brushing his fingers over each cover he passed. “There’s a couple of books on the Phoenix, though Grandmother would know a lot more than anything Pythagoras has written.” He paused at his bed, lifting a single, open book with striking tenderness. “This one is… promising.”

Even though Nero was certain he couldn’t read it, he held his hand out regardless. “In what way?” He said as he shuffled through the pages. This was one of the few demonic books he’d seen without dozens of diagrams or strange flow charts that he wouldn’t understand even if he could read the language. The foreign words in this one, however, were scrunched together so tightly that Nero had to squint to pick any of it apart. How _anyone_ was fluent in what Vergil called “pretentious, elder demon tongue” was beyond him.

“Since Angelica got her trigger, I kept wondering if I was doing something wrong,” Kaiden said as he took the book back. “This one discusses the logistics behind shifting between forms. Apparently, full demons can learn to “trigger” as we do, but most of them adapt human-esque forms.” He frowned as he set the book down on the closest shelf. “I hoped I could use those concepts to find my own… other half.”

“Any luck?”

There was a flicker of irritation in Kaiden’s eyes before he caught himself. “Afraid not.”

“You’ve got plenty of time,” Nero said. “Your grandmother didn’t trigger until she was like forty.”

Kaiden’s expression soured. “She was unaware of her nature as the Phoenix.”

It took Nero a moment to unravel what his son actually said. “I didn’t trigger until I was 30.”

Kaiden’s frown only deepened. “I can’t wait that long.”

“Why not?” Nero said. “Your powers are different than Angelica's. For all we know, you won’t be able to transform until…” He trailed off. 

“Grandmother dies?”

Nero flinched at Kaiden’s eerily calm voice, but his son simply reached for another book as if nothing had been said. “While it is unclear how Phoenixes actually transfer their powers,” He read the second he opened to an already bookmarked page. “One can assume that the older one must pass before the younger one can obtain their full strength.” He snapped the book closed. “Therefore…”

“Her father was alive when she first triggered,” Nero said. “So you still have a chance.”

Kaiden looked unconvinced, but Angelica’s voice cut them both off. “Time to go!” She yelled with boundless glee. She was probably more excited about this trip than anyone else, and it had been Nero who requested it in the first place.

“We should probably take these back,” Nero said. “Or Pythy might not let us through the door.” 

Kaiden grimaced. “Give me a few minutes. I’ll figure something…”

“Slowpokes!” Angelica yelled. “Let’s go!” A second later, Nero heard the door slam closed, followed by a familiar burst of demonic energy from the front yard. 

“I hope she can handle herself in the Underworld,” Kaiden said. 

“She’ll be fine,” Nero said with a shrug. Kaiden’s eyebrows shot up, and Nero waved him off with a lopsided grin. “Vergil can handle her.”

Kaiden snorted. “I guess we’ll see.”

* * *

Something felt off in Devil May Cry. And, try as he might, Dante couldn’t figure out what that something was. 

At first, he thought it was because of his trip. He had invited Lucia when Nero first mentioned it, and he was certain that Kaiden would be thrilled (or at the very least relieved) if Iris went with them. But both had turned him down for… some reason. 

Dante hadn’t figured out that reason yet either. And he might have thought about it more if Lucia hadn’t forced him to start packing. “You need to take something,” She said as she leaned against the doorway. 

“Hey now,” Dante said as he chucked a second coat into his suitcase. “I’m taking a lot of things.” He shuffled through the literal pile in his luggage, ranging from two matching sets of clothes, an extra pair of boots, and… other things. Did he need three combs? What good was hair gel when he never used it? Why did he have an old snowglobe? Where did he even get that from? “Too many things.”

Lucia shook her head as she kissed his cheek. “I heard that packing is much easier when you fold your clothing.” She slowly worked through his mess, setting aside the random items as she searched for the few clothes he actually had. “Did you really only pack a single shirt and an extra jacket?”

“These pants are expensive!” He said with a grand gesture to the pair he was wearing. “I’ve only got one, sweetheart.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have goaded your brother into destroying the last pair.”

Dante gave her the most dramatic pout he could manage. Lucia just laughed and tapped his cheek with pure pity. “It’s not my fault he’s all sensitive,” Dante said. Lucia rolled her eyes as she folded his jacket in a much better shape than Dante could have ever dreamed of. “Do you think I need a blanket? Or I could take those old PJs you love so much. Vergil mentioned the palace is quite warm at this time of the year.” 

“I sure hope so,” She said.

Dante hummed in thought as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Do you think Shy just leaves fire everywhere to keep the rooms warm? Or does she set the entire palace on fire occasionally? Or…” His eyes lit up with a wide grin. “Or do you think Vergil goes around lighting a bunch of candles to save her the trouble?”

“I think the Demon King’s palace probably keeps itself warm,” Lucia said as she pulled a shirt from the dresser behind them. “Or cold. Or whatever the royalty wishes it to be.” She folded the shirt between them as her eyes drifted to the floor. Her smile faltered, and it took everything Dante had to keep his from doing the same. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come, Luce?” He said as he lifted her chin with a finger and winked. “We could have some fun messing with my brother’s domain.”

“It’s been a month since you’ve been impaled,” Lucia said. “Maybe you should keep it that way.”

“We just can’t help ourselves,” Dante said with a shrug and a quick peck on her lips. “But seriously.” He dropped his voice just a bit. “Iris can stay with Kyrie. Trish and Lady can deal with this place. And…”

“I’m going with Iris, actually,” Lucia said. “Kyrie’s going to help me out while you’re gone.”

Dante blinked. “Help you with… what exactly?”

She gently pulled his hand off her waist and planted an absurdly gentle kiss to his knuckles. Dante didn’t know why that made his head spin. They were always quite tender with each other, even though it was usually in a teasing manner. But there was that look in her eyes; a calm and confident sincerity of a woman who had something important to say. “Well go on then,” Dante said with a knowing grin. “Whatever you’re keeping from…” He trailed off as she rested his hand on her stomach, and his mind raced to figure out what she was trying to say.

“I wasn’t certain until yesterday,” Lucia said. “So I went to visit Ophelia while you were out on a job.”

The revelation nearly knocked the air out of him. “Are you…?” He didn’t know why his brain didn’t finish that sentence, even as his mind played through every memory of them he could possibly think of. He pulled her closer to him, feeling for a sign, searching for…

_A heartbeat._

Despite the shock, Dante couldn’t ignore that strange, giddy feeling in his chest. “I’m about two months along,” She said. “Maybe a bit more. Ophelia said I should have been able to sense it. But I’m not a typical demon, so who knows?” She took a deep and shaky breath. “Are you…”

Dante burst into laughter as he swept her into his arms. “Luce I…” 

His breathing hitched when he met her gaze. Excitement was all he saw, but his own heart dropped into his stomach. 

_I’m going to be a father._

**_I’m_ ** _going to be a_ **_father._ **

Why did his skin feel suddenly clammy? Why was it so hard to breath? He balled his fists as discreetly as he could, hoping she didn’t feel it. But when her smile wavered, Dante kissed her lips to hide his sudden uncertainty. “We’re already a family,” He said. “A little guy will fit right in.”

Her shoulders relaxed as her smile returned. “You’re not allowed to worry about me while you’re gone,” She said as he sat her down. 

“Of course not, babe,” He said. “I never worry about you.”

He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he was more worried about himself. And, once she left him to his thoughts to discuss plans with Iris, Dante plopped onto the bed as the weight of the world dropped squarely on his shoulders. _What is wrong with me?_ He thought as he stared at nothing. _“Everything’s fine. This is a good thing. She’s happy. I’m…”_

_“Terrified.”_

A soft breath escaped his lips as his head fell into his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ashira struggles with more visions and the family finally makes their arrival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sigh*
> 
> You know, EOA schedule I have down (not counting last weeks because international trip and all that). But then anything related to BT and schedules just go out of the window.
> 
> So I hope you enjoy this update! :D

When Ashira woke up again over a day later- this time without any strange voices or miserable dreams - she got right to work. Vergil wouldn’t approve. Nor did Priscilla, for that matter, The elder demon had argued in that scolding way she did when she thought Ashira was making the wrong decision. She’d finally come around (albeit begrudgingly), when Ashira said: “I know I’m being irrational, Scilla. But I have to do something, or I’ll lose more of my mind than I already have. And I ask that you accompany me in case I do end up regretting it.” 

Now, after demanding to braid Ashira’s hair in the most lavish way possible and fix her up in her most ridiculous dress (two tasks which took a significant amount of time to accomplish), the two had left for the gardens. That hadn’t been Ashira’s first choice. She was more interested in checking on the family quarters, check on problems in the city, and find out if the demon chefs had managed to make a pizza. But Priscilla had insisted, and Ashira had relented. 

Secretly, she was happy to be out of her room at all. Work was just an easy excuse, and Ashira was certain Priscilla had seen right through her. 

“The flowers are changing again,” Ashira said as she knelt by a plot of roses with a mix of heart-shaped and diamond petals. Every plant in the Underworld was distinct; unique shapes or unnaturally bright colors that couldn’t be found outside. These particular roses - which was a name she had given them and probably not their true name - were a metallic gold with hints of silver energy that pulsed back and forth through the roots. A month ago, they’d been a deep shade of crimson. “Faster than usual.”

“I have noticed that myself,” Priscilla said. She’d made herself look younger today, having curled her brown-haired pony-tail instead of trying it back in a bun. Even her dress was fancier than usual, as Ashira hadn’t seen her attendant wear anything but blacks, whites, and grays. Though the pale blue satin was almost the same. “I have a gardener keeping track of them, though she has yet to find a pattern.”

“It’s happened more than once?”

Priscilla hesitated but recovered quickly. “I’ve seen four changes in the last month, but I’ve heard this may be the fifth.”

Ashira froze. “The fifth?” That couldn’t be right. It was too much of a coincidence. The garden did change from time to time, but it was usually once or twice over months or years. But five times in one month? The same amount of times that she’d been dragged into one of her dreams? “When did these change?”

“They were pink yesterday, your highness.”

Ashira rose slowly, but her mind raced. “This gardener of yours,” She said. “Did they see every change?”

“No, but they’ve talked to enough people to piece everything together.” Priscilla shook her head. “There have been no duplicate colors, as far as we know. I’ve been looking into it myself, but haven’t found any obvious pattern. ”

_ Shira… _

Her attention jerked toward the noise, her eyes scanning the trees as her heart lurched into her throat.  _ Vergil?  _ Impossible. His voice was all wrong. Too young and scared. Too quiet and too far outside of her mind. Dread flooded her lungs, and it took everything she had to summon V instead of collapsing out of pure panic. “I don’t hear anything,” He said quietly. 

_ Why? _

She took off, ignoring both V and Priscilla’s shouts behind her. She felt a tug of alarm on her soul, but Ashira ignored it, lifting her skirts to run as fast as she could. The voice continued-  _ why, Shira, why? -  _ and she narrowly avoided a few of the servants she hadn’t seen. The world seemed to close in on her. Her head pulsed with pain, and she realized she was seconds from another collapse.

But the voice…

When she turned the corner, a scream escaped her before she could stop it. There, lying in the fountain, was Vergil. But not  _ her  _ Vergil. A younger version; one she couldn’t have possibly met. But as she approached, his form flickered to his older self and back again. Ashira tried to tear her gaze away. Tried to tell herself that this was nothing but a sick dream. She’d skipped the stupid voice and the endless night sky. soon she’d wake up in her bed with Vergil chastising her for daring to leave…

Instead, the water turned to blood, and her eyes fell to a very familiar, demon sword in his chest.  _ Dante.  _ She’d recognize it anywhere. But why? She stumbled forward as the world spun far too fast. “Vergil… don’t… wait…”

When she landed in someone’s arms, it took Ashira far too long to realize that Vergil -  _ her _ Vergil. The  _ living  _ Vergil - had pulled himself to her side. The body of his other self was nowhere to be seen. There was no blood. No sword. No sign that he had ever existed. 

_ Because he hadn’t.  _

Vergil grimaced as his eyes flickered past her. “Your highness!” Priscilla yelled as Vergil lifted Ashira into his arms. “Is she…?”

“She’s fine,” Vergil snapped. Priscilla took a long step back and quickly bowed her head. Ashira heard Vergil’s near-silent sigh. “My apologies, Priscilla. I’m not angry with you.” Ashira hoped he wasn’t angry at her either, but she didn’t dare meet his gaze to find out. Though the incessant worry that radiated between them was almost as painful. “I’ll take care of her from here, and leave the remainder of the preparations to you.”

“Of course,” Priscilla said with another bow. As she left, Vergil’s gaze jerked to Ashira, but the fury in his eyes was a far cry from the pain and borderline terror in his soul. 

It was V who spoke first. “I couldn’t see it,” He said. “At least, not before you did.” Both Vergil and his human self frowned, their eyebrows furrowing with a million questions that had no answers. “If it was a hallucination… then, at the very least, I should have experienced the same things she did.”

“A second death,” Vergil muttered. “A different cause.”

“You were younger,” She said, quietly. “Not by much… but…”

Vergil’s fingers twitched. She brushed his hair back for him without thinking, earning a silent thank you for her efforts. “You didn’t dream,” Vergil said. Ashira didn’t respond, as she wasn’t certain what to say. It had felt like a dream, but she wasn’t sure why. There hadn’t been a clear moment where she slipped from reality like all the other ones, so he had to be right. But she had also never hallucinated outside of her nightmares.

_ They were pink yesterday... _

“The flowers,” she murmured.

“What?”

“V,” She said. “The flowers. Are they…?”

He vanished for a brief moment. An image sparked in her mind before he returned. “Orange,” He said. “All of them changed.”

Vergil’s grip tightened as Ashira’s memory filled in any gaps he hadn’t caught on to. “Gather any information you can,” he said to V. “Preferably before the family gets here.” V nodded as Griffon appeared, carrying him away without a word. As he left, Ashira’s body felt heavy. 

_ Not again.  _

“Stay with me,” Vergil said.

She wanted to, but it took everything she had to keep her eyes open. “I can’t…”

“You won’t let them down,” He said. “But you’re not leaving my side while they’re here, understand?”

She nodded against his chest, grateful when the feeling passed. But even as he whisked her away, silently promising her that everything would be alright, Ashira couldn’t bury what she’d seen. All she could do was press her ear to his chest, close her eyes, and let his heartbeat consume her senses until it was all that was left. And even then… it wasn’t quite enough.

* * *

While Nero had heard a few short descriptions of Eternum over the years, none of them quite compared to seeing the city for himself. Even from on top of the massive cliffs surrounding the place, Nero knew this place was something special. Eternum was almost futuristic in a weird way, with tall, silver and black buildings and massive bridges that crossed in every direction. The bright lights shifted colors in different parts of the city, illuminating the buildings in an eerie glow. Houses of all shapes and sizes were built straight into the cliffside with no discernable pathways leading into the city itself. But the few people Nero did see leave vanished into thin air, and he couldn’t see where they went. 

“Father,” Kaiden said quietly, his eyes locked far to the left. “Look.”

And when Nero did, the sight of the castle alone took his breath away. It towered above everything, settled on a massive plateau. Unlike Eternum, which was built of bright metals and curved architecture, the palace was like an old cathedral with four tall spires at each corner as if they were holding the place together. In the inner walls were four buildings bound into one with a single dome on top covering them all. But despite all of that, his attention was drawn straight to the symbol in the sky; an impossible mix of two wings; a blue dragon for his father, and golden bird for his step-mother.

Dante whistled. “I don’t know what I expected,” He said with a lazy grin. “But this is a million times better.”

“It used to be covered by fog,” Pythagoras said. He had guided them through the blue treed forest, but swore up and down on multiple occasions that he was only doing so while they waited for the royal guard. Apparently, escorting the family of the Demon King was “too mundane for a demon such as himself.” “But it was lifted once your brother took the throne.”

“Wow,” Angelica said. “I should’ve brought a camera.”

Pythagoras snorted. “Nothing you brought would have worked here, child.” 

Angelica scowled at him, but Nero talked before she could. “They built all of this?”

The elder demon almost looked offended. “There are plenty of capable demons in the city with skills your father does not possess.” Then, he sighed in resignation. “Though he and her highness build a capable team and figure out what all needed to be built, so I will give them some credit for that.”

“The castle built itself,” Dante said. 

Nero whipped around. “What?”

“It was a boring concrete square before they claimed it,” He said as he put his hands on the back of his head in some kind of nostalgia. “It burst into flames while Luce and I were leaving, and turned into that.”

“That is how it works,” Pythagoras said with a dramatic eye roll. “It did the same for Mundus, and likely every King before him. It’s not that difficult to...”

“Hey deadweight!”

Nero's glare turned to the sky. Griffon swooped down, but Nero didn’t flinch as the bird flew inches from his head, laughing all the way. When he spun back around, he landed on Kaiden’s waiting arms, and Nero’s glare gave way to a sigh. “Way to pick sides,” He muttered. Kaiden smiled ever so slightly as he scratched the bird’s chin.

“See?” Griffon said with the bird equivalent of a purr (or whatever that scratchy noise was). “My fellow bird gets it. Ya treat me with respect, and I’ll…”

“Tolerate you,” Kaiden finished. Griffon’s mouth hung there for a moment of confusion, before he huffed with a ruffle of his feathers. 

“Don’t tell me  _ you  _ are all their highnesses sent today,” Pythagoras said. 

“Course not!” Griffon said. “I just came out of the goodness of my heart.”

“How  _ thoughtful  _ of you.” Pythagoras spun around with his signature grunt. “I’ll leave you to it then.” Nero just shook his head as the demon waddled away and looked back to the city instead. 

“He hasn’t changed one bit,” Kaiden said as Griffon hopped to Nero’s arm instead.

“He’s probably still angry with you,” Angelica said. “Honestly  _ twenty books?  _ How the hell did you…”

“Language,” Nero snapped without thinking. Dante snorted, and even in the silence, Nero could hear the  _ “apple doesn’t fall far from the tree”. _

Angelica rolled her eyes. “How the  _ heck _ ,” She glared at Nero as she said it. “Did you get all of those out without him noticing?”

“Unlike some of us,” Kaiden said. “I learned how to be discreet.”

“Discreet,” Angelica snorted. “Being a hard-ass does not…”

“Language!”

She scowled, but it was Kaiden that spoke. “Have you learned nothing from your  _ favorite  _ grandfather?”

That, as most things did between the twins, started a heated argument that Nero ignored. “The pipsqueaks don’t shut up,” Griffon muttered. 

“That’s how it goes,” Dante said. Nero looked to him in surprise, but his Uncle didn’t look back Instead, he stared out over the horizon with his arms crossed. His eyes were no longer glittering. His small smile looked more forced than anything Nero had seen from him in recent memory. “Our family’s always been a little crazy.”

Before Nero could question them, a large blue butterfly appeared before him. “Finally!” Griffon said as the butterfly transformed before their eyes. “Took ya long enough.”

Morpheus looked older than Nero remembered, and not nearly as imposing. Vergil had assured him that Morpheus was a valuable ally, but Nero was still a bit weary. Last time he’d seen the demon, he’d been dragged into a hellish nightmare and been forced to kill his father to get out. “Welcome,” Morpheus said with a bow. “There’s a guard nearby that can take us straight to the castle, but he can only take three at a time.”

“Kiddos first,” Dante said, his gaze still locked on the city. “I’ll meet ya there.”

Nero wanted to question him. Maybe duel him on the spot and beat whatever was wrong out of him in a fair and impartial fight, but Angelica dragged him away before he had the chance. 

* * *

Ashira didn’t know why Vergil had indulged her on this particular morning. He’d been insistent on keeping an eye on her, and the two had spent the last three days shuffling between the couch and the bed with various books and conversation. And while it had been nice to spend some alone time with him, their stress had only gotten worse. Another dream had claimed her at some point, followed by a third Vergil, this one impaled on something akin to a crystal. And, after many hours of silence, he had begrudgingly explained that was part of Mundus's torture… but it couldn't have killed him. 

And the flowers had changed again; orange to teal.

Now, the silence of the sparring room, and the feel of Yamato in her hand - something she hadn’t fought with in months - was exhilarating… and sorely needed.

It helped that their demon halves hadn’t had a proper fight in months. 

The two had been sparring for at least an hour now, and neither had said a word. At least, not outloud. Vergil was quick to correct her posture, swings, and basically anything else he could in her head, while she had a good, quiet chuckle at his abysmal feather control. But she also heard the quiet approval whenever she knocked him back in any capacity (he rarely moved further than an inch). In return, she tried to encourage him to keep tossing feathers around instead of relying on his summoned swords. There were no points. No expectations. Just a constant back and forth to push off the anxiety for as long as possible. 

Ashira flipped over a triad of feathers, and swiped Yamato in Vergil’s direction. Fire burst from it in a wide arc. Vergil flipped Fumetsu in his hand, dispersing the fire rather than absorbing it. In another second, he was in front of her. She blocked each swipe. He parried her counterattack, shot down her feathers with his own, and the two leapt backwards without a clear winner. “Better,” Vergil said.

Ashira grinned as she flipped Yamato in her hand. His eyes flickered to it for half a second, before shifting back to her. “I’m getting there,” She said with a shrug. “Not as impressive as you.”

She swore she saw his chest puff just slightly. “Different style than mine.”

“Of course,” She ran her fingers along the blunt side of the blade. Flames ignited behind them, and she snapped the blade to the side. “Humor me?”

Vergil’s eyebrows shot up, but he was back in his battle stance within seconds. Ashira took a quiet breath, focusing entirely on the sword in her hand. He waited, patient, though he was still giving her a look somewhere between amusement and confusion. “I’ve been wanting to try this for awhile,” She said as she pointed the blade toward him. “Please forgive me if it doesn’t work.”

Before he could respond, she threw it at him. Vergil blinked to the side in surprise, reaching for the handle. But she spun to the right, and the blade diverted straight back to her. She snatched it out of the air with a flourish and sent the flames away. “While that is impressive,” he said. “That isn’t all you can do, is it?”

“Wanna find out?”

Vergil’s lips twitched in a smirk as he beckoned his feathers back to his side. Ashira ignited Yamato again, and Vergil charged. She jumped back, dropping the sword where she’d be standing. Before it hit the ground, she swiped her hand up and the sword followed. Fumetsu collided with it. He teleported past it, but Ashira flipped away and beckoned it back. Vergil dodged to the side. Ashira kept her distance, her attention split between controlling the sword and watching him. He did humor her, letting the sword collide with Fumetsu from time to time to see how hard she could push back. 

Eventually, however, her control slipped. Vergil knocked the sword aside. She phased toward it, barely grabbing the hilt just in time to raise it between them. But Vergil was faster. He grabbed Yamato, sheathed both swords, and pinned her beneath him in the blink of an eye. Ashira stared at him in surprise, before bursting into laughter. “It was impressive while it lasted,” She said, satisfied. 

“Using your flames to direct Yamato like one of your feathers,” Vergil said thoughtfully. “I will admit, that is not something I had thought of."

She snorted. "You don't need the flames." She'd seen him "boomerang" Yamato a few times, and was well aware he only did it to show off. 

"How did you find time to practice?”

“Training swords,” She said. “Not great for an actual fight, but good for practice.” She lifted herself on her elbows as his hands slipped off her shoulders. “Thank you for humoring me, your highness,” She said with a purposefully breathy tone. Vergil twitched as the warmth brushed along his lips. He shifted toward her, but she only smiled. “Yes, Vergil?”

“Your treading a thin line,  _ my beloved. _ ” He whispered, his knees pressing against her hips. 

“Is that so?” She kissed his cheek. “Unfortunately for you, we don’t have a lot of time.” 

Vergil growled as his eyes flickered with demonic energy. “Is that a challenge?”

Ashira laughed. “Maybe.”

The door slammed open. Vergil’s head snapped up, and both were back on their feet before Ashira had a chance to blink. Dante’s laughter echoed throughout the room. “Are we interrupting, your majesty?” He said with a grand bow. Nero grimaced behind him, but the twins were too busy staring wide-eyed at the images of dragons and phoenixes etched into the walls of the hallway. A small mercy, Ashira supposed, but she didn’t really mind. If anything, Vergil was more embarrassed than her, though he was too busy glaring at his brother to show it. 

Griffon merely snorted as he swooped into the room and landed on Ashira’s head. “I leave you two alone for five minutes and you just can’t help yourselves.”

Vergil’s annoyance turned on the bird instead. “It’s been over an hour.”

“Same difference.”

As Vergil’s gaze turned murderous, Ashira pressed her shoulder to his and took a step forward. “Pythy hadn’t given us an exact time on the door,” She said with a shrug. “But it’s nice to…” Her eyes widened as a low voice echoed through the hallways. In the distance, far past the twins, was a stumbling figure in a brown cloak.  _ No.  _ She thought.  _ Not… _

“Shy?” 

Nero’s voice drew her gaze away, but the figure kept moving. “It’s nice to see you,” She finished with a strained smile. Vergil’s hand pressed against her back as a question echoed in the back of her mind. The figure -  _ Vergil  _ \- crumbled, vanishing before he hit the floor. 

_ Why? _

_ Why must I keep watching you die? _

Yamato pressed against her palm, jerking her attention away. “Hold on to that,” Vergil said. Neither his eyes nor his voice betrayed his worry. Though the gesture alone drew a suspicious look from Dante. “I didn’t bother wearing my belt today, and my brother will be enough of a handful as it is.”

That was a terrible excuse. Vergil was more than happy to do everything one-handed if it meant he could carry Yamato around. But she understood his intent, and found a strange sense of peace as she clipped the scabbard to her belt. “I’ll let Priscilla know it came in handy.” She knew her smile was weak, and didn’t dare look at the rest of her family. “Dinner’s probably ready right now. Should we…”

“Yes,” Vergil said as Ashira finally looked away. “You better be hungry, Dante. We have no use for this pizza once you leave.”

Dante’s eyes lit up. “Hellfired pizza?” He said as he wrapped his arm over Nero’s shoulder. “I’m sold.” He spun around, yanking Nero with him as he practically stomped toward the twins with a hearty laugh. “Let’s go, kiddos! I’ve got a palace worth of food to clean out!”

Vergil’s head tilted.  _ “Something’s wrong with him.” _

Ashira blinked.  _ “How could you tell?” _

Vergil frowned.  _ “He’s trying too hard.” _

“Come on lovebugs!” Dante yelled from down the hallway. “Unless you want us to get lost!”

“Dante!” Nero groaned. “Just wait like five damn minutes.”

“They’ll find us eventually.”

Ashira stared down the hallway for a long moment before she realized that her hand was clenching Yamato so tightly that her knuckles had gone white. Vergil stepped in front of her, hand resting on top of hers. “Breathe.”

“I swear I’ve heard you say that before.” His eyebrows furrowed. Ashira sighed. “It was only a joke, my love.” Still he said nothing as his grip tightened on her hand. “I’m fine, Vergil.” She said. “I…” She paused, then sighed again. “ _ Actually, I’m not fine in the slightest. I’m confused and scared and I can’t piece anything together and I don’t know what to do.”  _

For another long moment, Vergil said nothing. Then, his thumb brushed her cheek, pushing just enough to tilt her toward him. When his hand slid around the back of her head, he leaned in and kissed her. Ashira’s heart fluttered at the tender touch, and she likely would have melted on the spot had his other hand not pressed on her back. 

When he pulled away, his voice was quiet. “I know it’s difficult, Shira, but I need you to be strong.” Both hands shifted to gently cup her cheeks. “We’ll figure this out.”

“Together,” She whispered. “Just like everything else.”

“VERGIL!”

Vergil growled, and Ashira gave him a small laugh. “We should probably hurry before he tears the palace apart.”

“I’d like to see him try.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The key to the future lies in the fragments of the past..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! I'm glad I was able to get this one out today! The next one will be sometime next week (as I have some work to catch up on), so I hope you enjoy :D
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated! I'd love to hear people's guesses for what's going on as the story continues ;D

Despite Dante’s insistence that they all go to dinner, Kaiden managed to pry out of his Uncle’s grasp and sneak away. Or, more accurately, he managed to walk away quietly as both Angelica and Nero acknowledged his departure by ignoring it entirely. He would have no trouble finding them again, not when the power of his grandmother’s soul quite literally radiated through the hallways. And Kaiden didn’t miss the palace workers hovering around wherever he went. 

If he did get lost, someone would find him. It was only a matter of time. And, at the moment, Kaiden hoped he had at least a few minutes to himself. 

The palace library was easy to find, and he had a feeling from the various feathers sitting on top of books that this was also a place his grandmother visited. It was much smaller than Pythagoras’s but much cozier. Pythagoras had hundreds of bookshelves that went in random directions and were too easy to get lost in. These shelves were perfectly aligned and marked with demon script that Kaiden was proud to say he could finally decipher. Two sets of curved stairs led to a second floor, though those books were contained on much darker shelves behind a tall, golden banister. 

If it was true that the palace built itself off of what Vergil and Ashira wanted, then Kaiden was happy to say that his grandparents had good tastes. But as much as Kaiden wanted to simply explore everything this place had to offer, he was searching for one thing; a book somewhere that Pythagoras somehow didn’t have. 

It would help if he knew what that exact book was, but figuring that out was half the fun. Or it would have been if he wasn’t so stressed. 

Kaiden wasn’t sure how long he’d wandered the stacks before he found something of mild interest; a book on the physiology of half-demons. He’d read plenty of those in Pythagoras’ library but a fresh voice was better than nothing. When he picked it up, however, a quiet “thunk” echoed from inside. Surprised, he opened the cover, only to find that the book was hollow. Inside was a silver pocket watch with words and numbers written in some kind of demon script. Except this was one he couldn’t read; a rarity nowadays.

He couldn’t deny the small thrill that coursed through him as he reached for it. The metal was impossibly smooth, and he could feel the demonic power thrumming through it like some kind of strange battery. When he turned it over, he was surprised to find new letters. A language he’d never seen before, like the others, but one he could actually read. 

_ Odd.  _

“The key to the future lies in the fragments of the past,” He murmured as his fingers brushed over the new script. “What does that mean?”

“Is someone here?”

Startled, the pocket watch slipped from his fingers. Kaiden scrambled to catch it, cursing when it hit the ground. It popped open, revealing a striking white interior. There were no numbers. No hands to designate the time. Instead, there was a convoluted mess of circles and swirls. But the more he stared at it, the more he realized that they were infinity symbols, all crisscrossing each other in nonsensical ways. But his thoughts stopped short when he remembered. 

_ Hadn’t someone spoken? _

Sheepishly, he pocketed the item and peered out from the stacks. “I apol-” He froze when he saw the older demoness. While she looked calm - hands clasped in front of her with a gentle smile - Kaiden knew something was wrong. It was slight, but her pale blue dress was floating off to the side as if she had taken a step, but the dress itself never came back down. 

And her soul… the flames were as still as someone close to death.

Swallowing his panic, Kaiden sprinted from the room. 

* * *

Nero thought dinner was a lot more awkward than it should have been. The dining room was massive. There were blue and gold stained-glass windows with pillars between each one. The ceiling was high and rounded with an exorbitant chandelier that had so many lights that Nero risked going blind if he did more than glance at it. The metallic, black table was ridiculously long, which was made even more comical as all six of them were crowded alone at one end.

Ashira and Vergil were perched in their lavish, dark blue chairs, something they hadn’t even tried to get out of. Apparently, no matter what chair they sat in, the palace would transform them anyway, so the two had accepted Dante’s laughter ( _ “And I thought you looked pretentious before, Verge”)  _ and moved on. Now, Nero was certain they were sharing some sort of private conversation given the faraway look in their eyes. He suspected it had something to do with Ashira’s “incident” earlier, though he still didn’t have a clue what had actually happened. Dante was to his right, chowing down on everything in range. But he too seemed off. He threw random jokes Vergil’s way every few minutes, but they always seemed hollow, and his smile never quite went to his eyes. Kaiden was missing, though Ashira assured him that he was on his way. Angelica was the only one who had escaped the dining room gloom and had even amassed a small following of demons eager to listen to her fantastical tales. 

Nero was simply confused, and secretly hoped that whatever had his family in a funk wouldn’t last the rest of their visit. 

“So,” Nero said. He swore both Vergil and Ashira flinched as their gaze snapped straight to him. And he might have been more embarrassed if he wasn’t trying so hard to be casual. Instead, he crossed his arms with a cool smile. “How’s the royal life been treating ya?”

Dante slurped his soup much too loudly at that exact moment. With a content sigh, he said, “Just look at ‘em, kid. That’ll tell you all you need to know.”

Nero scowled. “They look pretty normal, chairs aside.”

“Well yeah,” Dante shrugged. “We caught them in a rather  _ relaxed  _ moment. Just wait until the royal garb comes out.” He grinned at Vergil and Nero saw a hint of confusion on his father’s face. Even he didn’t know what Dante was getting at. “I bet Vergil’s got a crown bigger than his head. Or maybe he lets Ashira wear it, since she’s his lovely Queen.” Vergil’s eyes narrowed, and Nero felt like he was missing something very important.

“Dante,” Vergil said. “Is everything…”

The door burst open. Kaiden stumbled inside, eyes wide. “Something’s wrong. I…”

Then, Angelica screamed. 

Nero was on his feet in a heartbeat, barely in time to catch Angelica before she tumbled to the floor. His eyes widened. Every demon Angelica had been talking to was frozen, caught between one moment and the next. It was like they had turned to stone, but Nero could see the terror in a few of their eyes as if they had sensed it happening. 

“Vergil…” 

His father was by the frozen servants in a heartbeat, his brow furrowed. “It’s magic of some kind. Shir-” He froze before he turned to face her. Ashira was staring at the doorway, her demon eyes hazy and unfocused. “Shira,” He said. “I’m here. He’s not…”

Ashira collapsed. The second she hit the floor, a portal opened beneath her -  _ Yamato,  _ Nero thought. Vergil blinked to Ashira’s side, but a second portal opened behind him. Black tendrils of smoke shot out, yanking him back as Ashira vanished. “Shira!” Vergil fought back, but more shadows scrambled to hold him. When he finally stumbled, Dante shot across the room to catch him. But, before he reached Virgil, the shadows grabbed him too. Both were gone in a heartbeat. 

“Dad!” Angelica screamed. Nero whirled around and dove without thinking. One arm wrapped around her as he snapped his wings out to grab Kaiden. But dark smoke flooded in from all directions. He felt something slimy grab his ankle and barely managed to tear Kaiden free. His son rushed to his side as Angelica scrambled for safety. In another second, more than a dozen smokey appendages clung onto the rest of him. All Nero heard was Angelica’s panicked shriek as all three of them were yanked into the darkness, their own portal snapping shut. 

* * *

_ I know you see them, Phoenix, but I wish you didn’t have to. I knew the worlds were crumbling, but I had not anticipated this. A second force. Someone trying to undo everything I’ve worked to fix.  _

_ And you… You’ve been dragged into it. _

_ How many deaths have you seen now? Four? Five? I know it weighs on you. Every death you see. Every life lost. You feel it in your soul, even if you don’t know why. _

_ But don’t be afraid, little Phoenix. You, your king, and I will fix this. One way or another. Just hold on a little longer, and the pain won’t bother you anymore. _

* * *

Ashira’s eyes snapped open. A frantic gasp for air turned into painful coughing as she forced herself upright. The voice echoed in her head, an endless stream of repeating words that she couldn’t quite untangle. 

But the vision (hallucination? Dream? She didn’t know anymore) was sharp. Teenage Vergil stumbling through the dining room with a wide gash from hip to shoulder. His healing should have fixed it, and her Vergil’s brief thoughts told her it had. But  _ that  _ Vergil crumbled and bled… and his body was still there when she slipped away. 

She clutched her head as it finally dawned on her.. “They’re all different versions of you,” She mumbled, dizzy. “Vergils that didn’t survive the events you did. But why? How?”

A hand gripped her shoulder. Not too tight, but enough pressure to still her thoughts. “Breathe,” V said. “Calm yourself, as I’m afraid we have much larger issues to deal with.” 

With a deep breath, Ashira pushed away whatever thoughts she could and let herself slip onto her back. Her head pulsed in pain, but she ignored it. Silence fell. The ground was painfully rigid, digging into her back in all the wrong ways. The tingling sensation in her appendages was borderline painful, and all she could do was wait for it to go away. 

Then a pair of wings smacked her in the head.

“Get up, Princess!” Griffon screeched. Ashira opened her eyes but didn’t move. Griffon huffed, and she felt the tiniest of pricks against her cheeks. “Don’t make me peck you.”

She glared at him, silently grateful that she’d had the sense to wear her glasses today. “Is that not what you’re already doing?”

Griffon’s head dropped until it knocked against hers. “Not yet,” His beady yellow eyes stared straight into hers like some strange kind of power struggle. Except Ashira simply shifted her eyes to the Phoenix and he scrambled away as if she’d burned him. “But don’t think I wouldn’t.”

Finally, Ashira forced herself upright, groaning at the sheer pain in her body. Her head spun, a gentle purr followed by Shadow’s fur pressing against her arm pulled her back to reality. The white ground was uneven and covered in dirt and light green bark that resembled stones. Sharp rocks rose in random directions. Some curved slightly high above her, but other sections had nothing but the partly-cloudy sky. Ashira forced herself to her feet and carefully moved to the edge. Below her was an unstable, crackling red portal that she was certain led to the Underworld, but there was nothing else around it. “We’re pretty high up.”

“Wow,” Griffon said as he swooped in front of her. “Did you figure that out all by yourself?”

She scowled at him. “Feel free to tell me where we are you dumb chicken.”

“Excuuuuuuse me, Princess,” He said. “How am I supposed to know where…”

V’s hand clamped down on the bird’s beak. “We,” he said as he bopped Griffon’s head with the cane. The bird shouted something unintelligible before V quite literally threw him over his head. “Are on top of the Qliphoth tree.”

Whatever choice words Griffon had for his former summoner, Ashira didn’t hear them. “The  _ Qliphoth Tree?”  _ She said, “You mean, the tree  _ you  _ raised over two decades ago?”

“The same.” While his voice carried that usual hint of amusement, his frown was deeper than she’d seen it in a long time. He flipped the cane a few times in thought, before resting it on his shoulder. “Though how we got here is another question entirely.”

“We can’t be in the past… right?”

“Only one way to find out!” Griffon shouted. “I’ll just go down there and find ‘ole Shakespeare himself, and see if this one remembers it.”

V rolled his eyes. “There are so many flaws in that logic that you are the only one who could have possibly thought of it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

V snapped the cane out again, but Griffon dodged it. “You are simple-minded,” V said.

“If we are in the past,” Ashira said. “Then you meeting yourself probably isn’t the best solution.”

Offended, Griffon shot into the air. “The plan’s foolproof! I’ll show ya!” He pulled in his wings and dove toward the edge…

… and crashed straight into an invisible wall.

Ashira was by his side in an instant, while V merely sighed and shook his head. “Are you alright?” She said as she gently lifted the bird’s head. She swore she saw something like stars in his eyes, but Griffon merely groaned and flopped his wing out to the side. 

“He’s fine,” V said. “But what he just found is… concerning.”

“We’re trapped.”

“No,” He said as he stepped back to the same edge she’d been at moments before. “There’s no wall here.”

“There could be during the drop.”

“Nightmare will be happy to test that out for you.”

“But if we are in the past,” She said. “Do you think you and Dante are down there already?”

“Possibly.” The end of the cane hit the ground as his eyes scanned the horizon. “Given that the tree is still standing, there are a few potential scenarios. The first is that we’ve already fought and are working on cutting it down. The process didn’t take long, so I’d suggest we get off this tree quickly so we don’t go with it.”

“The second?”

“Is less likely,” He said. “I highly doubt we’d be here if I’d already…”

They both froze when demonic energy spiked behind them. “Or our timing is impeccable,” V said dryly. Ashira turned just in time to meet Vergil’s gaze as a portal snapped shut. His widening eyes were the only sign of shock she got, and Ashira was certain she wouldn’t have noticed that if she didn’t know him as well as she did. But  _ this  _ Vergil wasn’t  _ her  _ Vergil. Of that she was certain. His soul was different, as claw-like black marks cut across it in random directions; scars that she’d never seen before. But even if he was the same Vergil, this was undoubtedly before they met, and long before he’d gotten any of his memories back.

“Who are you?” He asked.

Ashira blinked as her brain caught up to who was actually speaking. It had been  _ years  _ since he’d sounded like that. So… young and… inexperienced. A man who had eaten the Qliphoth fruit all of ten minutes ago, not one that had been cultivating its power for over twenty-five years. They looked virtually identical, but  _ this  _ Vergil was practically a baby. Hell forbid he try to fight her, as she had a feeling that he might not stand a chance. She’d trained with the older, improved him long enough to hope for that outcome at the very least. 

V snorted beside her. “He’d kill you if he heard you say that.”

“First off,” Ashira hissed. “No. And second,” She put up two fingers. “He’s not here.”

“Tell  _ him  _ that,” V said, gesturing to the other Vergil. 

“I’m not asking you again.” Other Vergil said.

Ashira glared at him before she could stop herself. “Do you mind?” She snapped. And whether it was the stress of the situation or the fact that the silence in her mind was more irritating than usual, she finished with, “The adults are talking.” 

His eyes narrowed.  _ “If this is a younger you,”  _ She thought.  _ “You better forgive me for whatever happens up here.” _

He clicked Yamato from its sheath. “So you wish for death?”

“Oh please.” She rolled her eyes as she absentmindedly twirled Yamato in her hand. She wasn’t afraid of him, but the weight of the sword was enough to keep her grounded. “I’m glad you’ve outgrown this dramatic flair of yours.”

V snorted again. “Are we talking about the same man?”

“... I suppose sarcasm counts.”

But when she looked back at him, she saw that his gaze had fallen to her Yamato. She realized her mistake. “Vergil,” She said as his grip tightened on the hilt of his own Yamato. His eyes narrowed at the sound of his name, and Ashira swore in her Phoenix tongue. “Trust me,” She said. “You do not want to rush into…”

Vergil launched at her before she had a chance to finish. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Vergil and Dante find a puzzle, Ashira has a moment of fury, and Nero meets someone he never expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologize for the delay! Had a lot happen in a very short amount of time and I wanted to make sure this chapter didn't suffer for it. 
> 
> Suffice to say... I don't think it did? xD
> 
> Next chapter will be out next week! Hope you enjoy!

#  Chapter Four

Vergil couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Though somewhere deep within, he was certain that this was a dream. It had to be. He hadn’t seen this broken cathedral in almost 20 years… not since the previous Phoenixes had threatened to kill Ashira themselves. 

This was  _ her _ dream.

But she wasn’t here.

Vergil was alone.

With a quiet grunt, he forced himself upright. But when he tried to get to his feet, the air itself fought back, forcing him down with an impossible, invisible weight. Eventually, he was able to sit up against a nearby wall, but his lungs screamed with every breath. The pain of thousands of needles racked across every inch of his skin when he tried to move again. Frustrated, Vergil slumped against the wall, and the weight around him dissipated. 

_ It’s true, then.  _

The voice that echoed around him was not one he recognized, nor did he know if it was the same one from Ashira’s dreams. He never could have known that. Not without entering her visions himself; something he hadn’t been able to do. But it was safe to assume from her descriptions - as sounds were the only things they couldn’t mentally communicate with each other - that this voice had to be the same. A young boy’s voice mixed with that of an older woman. 

_ I thought she was the convergence… but it's both of you.  _

Vergil tried to speak but wasn’t surprised when he couldn’t. Ashira hadn’t been able to either. 

_ Then you might be able to fix my brother’s mistakes. _

Vergil’s eyes widened as a younger Ashira appeared before him. Her skin was ashen. Her eyes were devoid of all life and her hair was singed. Every step she took was clearly painful, and Vergil strained to reach for her when she stumbled. The world pushed back, and all he could do was watch when she crumbled to her knees in front of the statue of her ancestors - the one his Ashira had once broken. 

“Please,” She whispered. “I’m doing everything I can.”

“It isn’t enough,” The Phoenix voice said. “It will never be enough.”

_ “Find the sword,”  _ The unfamiliar voice whispered.  _ “It’s your only chance.”  _

Feathers of all colors appeared from nothingness. “Shira!” Vergil’s voice was so, impossibly small. So quiet and nonexistent. And even though he knew this wasn’t real _ , _ he couldn’t stop the agony that ripped through him when the feathers shot forward, killing his beloved in a heartbeat. 

“Vergil!”

Vergil jerked awake, lashing out in a blind panic. A hand caught his wrist, but his other fist hit a jaw that quite literally shattered on impact. His assailant swore loudly and jerked on Vergil’s wrist with such force that he felt the bones crack. After a brief moment and an angry grunt, the voice spoke again. “Dammit, Verge!” There was a second groan, followed by the various noises of broken bones pulling themselves back together. 

Vergil blinked as his thoughts stilled.  _ Dante.  _ His brother was glaring at him, hand still clamped on his wrist. Neither flinched as their injuries healed. “Good thing you don’t have Yamato or you would’ve taken my head off,” Dante muttered as he let go. 

_ Yamato. _

_ I don’t have… _

Vergil took a long, deep breath, calming the instant - and, frankly idiotic - panic. He was long past the days when Yamato was all he had. And even if Dante weren’t here, Vergil would be more than fine without it. Still, his stomach tied into uncomfortable knots as his fingers twitched, wishing to grab something that wasn’t there. 

“I gave it to Ashira,” Vergil said. “And she…” 

He froze. 

“Verge?”

His mind was silent. Painfully so. 

“She’s not here,” He said. “She’s not in this world.”

“To be fair,” Dante said. “I don’t even know what world _ we’re _ in. So I need you to take a deep breath, calm the hell down, and look around.”

Vergil hadn’t thought he was panicking, nor would he admit how his heart slowed when he did as Dante asked. His vision sharpened, falling on a ruined mess of bookshelves, torn pages, broken hardcovers, and glass scattered in all directions. But despite the chaos that went on for quite a while - at least a dozen bookshelves on both sides, if he had to guess - many still stood in the background. Yet they were all turned in seemingly nonsensical ways, like an entrance to some kind of maze. And as Vergil’s eyes drifted to the dark, black marble ceiling, he had a sinking feeling that he knew exactly where they were. A quick blink to the railing on the far side confirmed it, as he found himself looking down on Pythagoras’ entrance hall. But the furniture was destroyed, the fireplace had been ripped from the wall, and the mosaic of the night sky, including whatever magic allowed it to change, was shattered as if it were no more than worthless glass. 

“Pythy’s,” Dante breathed as he stepped up beside him. “What the hell happened?”

Vergil twitched as he strained for any other sign of life. But the library was eerily silent, and the front door was barricaded by all manner of heavy objects. They’d be easy for Dante to cut through, but Vergil had a strange feeling that leaving wasn’t an option. “Look around,” Vergil said. “Find any clues that you can.”

“Don’t tell me we’re splitting up.”

Vergil froze mid-step, brows furrowed in confusion. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“You know how this place is,” Dante said. “Traps all over the place. Magic meant to confuse patrons until they’re hopelessly lost? Pythy may tolerate you, Verge, but he’s not here. And I doubt whatever he did to this place will just vanish with him.” He waved his hands in the air as if that proved some kind of point. 

“So you’d rather get lost together,” Vergil said, his voice more deadpanned than he’d intended. 

“We don’t know what’s out there.”

“We can handle anything that…” 

An eerie clang in the distance caught his attention. Vergil’s gaze jerked behind them as the noise got louder, like a strange clock ticking down the closer it got to them. Dante frowned, eyes scanning in the same direction. But with bookshelves as tall as the ceiling, they didn’t have a hope of seeing anything without rushing straight to it. 

“Looks like we have a guest,” Dante said with a lazy grin. “We should go say hi.”

Vergil didn’t know why his heart clenched in his chest at that thought. He didn’t know what possessed him to yank his over-eager brother behind a massive statue that had been turned into a battered hunk of marble. But  _ something  _ within him was  _ screaming  _ that they couldn’t, under any circumstances, be seen by… whatever that thing was. And after years of being one of the strongest people in every room, regardless of what world he was in, Vergil knew he would be a fool to ignore such blatant paranoia. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Dante said. 

Vergil scowled. “Not the time.”  _ Not after everything Ashira’s seen.  _

Dante rolled his eyes as he peeked over the marble. The clanging was much louder now, and Vergil was certain they were footsteps of something. Two-legged, he assumed given the cadence. Fairly large, given the resounding thud that began to follow each metallic ring. It could be some kind of armor but…

“Hey Verge,” Dante said, pointing to the wall. “What’s that?” 

It took Vergil far too long to shift his thoughts from the impending monster he was apparently uninterested in seeing and whatever Dante was rambling about. But how he hadn’t noticed the massive, twelve pointed star etched into the only part of the wall that wasn’t lined with the destroyed remnants of the library was anyone’s guess. After a quick glance toward the noise - it still hadn’t turned the corner yet, so they were safe for now - Vergil slipped over to the painting. “Don’t worry,” Dante whispered. “I’ll keep watch.”

Vergil ignored him, eyes scanning the star. The symbol was white, a sharp contrast to the black, demonic wood behind it. At most of the points were slightly curled marks in different colors, all raised and glistening like gems. Three marks were missing; one on the right, one on the left, and the one at the very top. There were no duplicate colors, but their positions were completely random.  _ Blue, Purple, Pink, Orange…  _ Vergil’s frown deepened. He could feel something behind that symbol; a thrum of demonic energy that was just strong enough to tug at him. When his fingers brushed the center, a small circle of stone pressed into the wall. Nothing happened. “We need the missing pieces,” He muttered as he took a step back.

Dante yanked him to the ground before he realized it. “I think we’ve got a bigger problem,” He hissed, eyes wide as he pressed the back of his head to the marble. Vergil hadn’t realized how close the noise had gotten, but he had to swallow another wave of dread as it drifted closer. If Dante was worried…

When the noise stopped, Vergil carefully peered over the top of their makeshift hiding spot. But his heart stopped the second he laid eyes on the blood-splattered, black suit of armor that stared back. It’s demonic, red eyes glowed in the darkness, illuminating a very familiar pair of horns. 

Only then did he realize why his instincts had been so frantic; they’d known what was here all along. Except this particular suit was much bigger than it should have been, with gold and red adornments that Vergil was certain he’d never worn. And when two swords appeared in its hand - Rebellion and Yamato - it was Dante who yanked Vergil over the railing as Nelo Angelo surged toward them both.

* * *

Ashira had argued with Vergil a fair amount of times over the years, but she had never been as angry with him as she was right at this moment. Whether this was the actual him, a future him, or whatever  _ him  _ that she would be going home to, she wasn’t certain. But this version of him was certainly testing her patience. 

The two had been fighting for a while now, though Ashira couldn’t be certain how long. It felt like forever, but the sun hadn’t moved a centimeter since she’d showed up. The ever-growing frustration on his features was a decent indicator, especially when he stopped trying to hide it. But it didn’t feel like much of a fight, no matter how hard Vergil tried. There were just too many years between them. His body wasn’t accustomed to the Qliphoth’s power running through it, and he probably didn’t have a clue what his new devil form looked like. She assumed that was the only reason he hadn’t tried using it yet, considering she’d parried every strike, knocked him back four times, and likely had a perpetual look of boredom on her face. 

It didn’t help that Griffon had resigned himself to mocking them both from a spot that neither her feathers or his summoned swords could reliably hit. 

“Boss is pretty pathetic, ain’t he?” The bird cackled. “Big, strong, Qliphoth eating demon man can’t even fight a woman!” Both a summoned sword and a feather shot at him. But, considering neither were looking nor really cared, he hopped away with ease and snapped his wings out with pride. “And neither of you can hit me.”

Ashira was only slightly disappointed when Vergil blinked away from her instead of diving at the familiar. Griffon wouldn’t die - maybe that’s why he wasn’t bothering - but she wasn’t opposed to a chicken skewer now and again. “Listen to me,” She said, but she wasn’t surprised when he clicked Yamato from the sheathe, and sighed as she hopped out of the way of a swirl of spectral swords. Judgment cut, Dante had called them. Vergil had never denied it. It had been terrifying to her once, as the flurry was far too fast for the human eye. But now, after seeing it  _ hundreds  _ of times, she knew every pattern in the book. 

“Enough,” Vergil snapped. 

“You’re the one still fighting,” She said. 

“You mock me?”

_ You’re making it too easy.  _ “Not intentionally.”

She felt the energy of his trigger just before he transformed, and charged at her before she had a chance to think about it. 

The Phoenix shrieked in her mind.  _ “This pretendender will not defeat us.” _

A mili-second before they collided, Ashira’s own demon surged within her. The power alone knocked him back, and he transformed the moment he hit the ground. She pushed up on her talons, and stretched her wings as wide as they could go. He stared at her, visibly bewildered for the first time that fight. _ “Enough.”  _ He flinched as dozens of feathers blinked into existence around her.  _ “If I must defeat you to stop this foolishness, then I will not hesitate.” _

V appeared in front of his other self before she threw a single feather. While his smile was lackadaisical, his eyes flickered in silent warning. “I’d advise against killing him, Shira.”

_ “I have no intention of killing him,”  _ She hissed. 

“He’s not linked to you.”

_ “The feathers are golden, V.” _ She countered.  _ “And I know how his healing works.” _

“You’ve seen stranger deaths than this.”

She jerked back, horrified as her demon form vanished in a heartbeat. The feathers dropped from the sky, shattering against the ground before their energy rushed back into her. Why hadn’t she thought of that? The other Vergils had died to things he never should have. What was to say this one wouldn’t too? And to her? The terrifying irony behind that… that she may have lost him in a display only meant to boost her own ego... 

Anger swept through her as her gaze snapped to Vergil. For the first time since he appeared, it wasn’t at him, but she couldn’t control the fury in her voice. “Are you done wasting our time? Because I’ve got a lot bigger things to worry about than your pride at the moment.”

V snorted. “Yes, Shira. Clearly  _ that’s  _ the problem.”

“Not helping.” 

Vergil took a single, deep breath before he forced himself back to his feet and clicked Yamato back into its sheath.  _ Good.  _ She thought. At least he was finally stopping to think. At least, she hoped that’s what he was doing. 

“Why is he here?” He said, his eyes flickering to V. “How is he here?”

Ashira blinked. “You’re asking that  _ now?”  _ She said, “That should’ve been one of the first things you said!” He glared at her. She wasn’t amused _. And here I thought Dante was the impulsive one. _

“Explain.”

She paused, searching for the right words. She quickly decided there wouldn’t be any that would satisfy him. “He’s my familiar in an unexplainable, roundabout way,” She said as she sheathed Yamato. “Along with the other three. You…” She trailed off. “They were gifts.”

“The giver must not care that much about you.”

“The opposite, actually.” She said, “But it doesn’t matter. They’re with me, and we’re stuck here, and none of us know why.”

“Stuck here,” He echoed back, head tilting just slightly. “How so?”

She frowned. How much should she tell him? If this was the past, then her being her had already messed with the future. Though considering she was still here, and none of her memories or powers had changed, she assumed that wasn’t the case. But time travel was the only real option she could think of. At least, the only one that made any kind of sense (which, admittedly, wasn’t saying much). 

V cleared his throat. “Who or whatever sent us here must have done so for a reason. This me might be our only chance.”

Ashira sighed. “Right as usual.”

“One of my many talents.”

“You’re also more insufferable than usual.”

“More so than him?”

“Enough,” Vergil said. “Either explain what’s going on or leave. My brother will be here soon.”

Ashira glanced at V. “He’s not wrong,” He said, “Honestly, I’m more surprised he isn’t already here.” 

“What do you…?”

V whirled on his other self, and the end of his cane hit the ground with a shockingly resounding thud. “This is how this is going to go,” He said. Vergil’s eyes widened, but V continued before he could say anything. “Dante is on his way. Your familiars are going to try and stop them, though as you’ve likely guessed, they are more than aware they have no chance.” Vergil’s eyes flickered to Griffon for the briefest of moments, before looking back to V. “Dante will arrive and you will fight. But we both know what outcome you’re hoping for.”

For a long moment, nobody said a word. Even Griffon was somber, landing back on Ashira’s arm with a sad look in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. Vergil’s eyes closed as he took a slow and quiet breath. “And?”

“In our world, you fight,” V continued. “You almost get your wish. One strike between you both… and both of you had the same plan.”

Vergil’s eyes snapped open. “He…”

“It’s your son that saved you,” V said. “Your son who reminds you what you have left in this world.”

Understanding dawned on his face. “Nero…”

“But you knew that already.”

The tree rumbled. Griffon shrieked as he tumbled off Ashira’s arm, but vanished before he hit the ground. Ashira stumbled and V was by her side in an instant to keep her from plunging right off the side. “We can’t stay,” She said. 

“We’re meant to jump.”

“Are you certain?”

“Unless this is an elaborate death trap,” V said. “And there are much easier ways to go about that.” Another shudder nearly knocked them both off their feet. Vergil’s eyes drifted to hers and her heart leapt into her throat. This was still him… another him, yes. But after all the ones she’d watched die - all the versions she couldn’t save - this was a chance she didn’t want to waste. 

She didn’t think her heart could bear another loss.

“Come with us,” She said. “The future’s already changed. Dante isn’t coming. Your familiars haven’t died. There has to be a reason you were brought up here with me.” His expression gave nothing away, but Ashira saw the way his grip tightened on Yamato. “You’re not meant to die up here,” She said. “Don’t give up now. You have too much to live for.”

He scoffed. “As what? A husk of my former self bound to  _ you?”  _

“This isn’t you,” She said gesturing to V. “He’s a piece that you gave to me to save my life.” 

The shock on Vergil’s face vanished the second the tree shuddered again. “We have to go,” V said before vanishing back into her mind. Ashira glanced behind her. She had never been afraid of heights, but the drop into nothingness was uncomfortably familiar. The last time she’d done it, she’d been stranded alone for almost two decades. 

_ Am I down there now?  _

“What’s your plan?”

She glanced back at him, and whispers of her dreams echoed in her head. “I’m going down there,” She said. “I need to find the Angel of the Night. It has to be why I’m here. There’s no other explanation.” That wasn’t true. There were a million different reasons why she could be here, and most of them weren’t good. But she had to try. Her dreams - her nightmares - had to mean something. And even if it was all a lie… she had nothing else. 

The tree shook again. “Your choice,” She said. Then she jumped, shifting into her demon form before diving straight off the edge. Massive cracks rose through the roots of the tree. Large pieces began to crumble in all directions. For a moment, Ashira expected to see another death. Another Vergil plunging into nothingness that she couldn’t save. But then she felt his demon form burst above her, and swooped into the Underworld before the opening snapped shut, trapping them both. 

_ Hold on, Saina.  _ She thought, hoping that somewhere, somehow, her own Vergil was alright.  _ I’ll see you soon.  _

* * *

The smell of smoke jerked Nero awake faster than he was ready for. The world spun as he tried to stand up, and he swore as he stumbled backward. A groan startled him, but a hand caught his before he had a chance to do anything about it. “Dad,” Angelica’s voice was muddled, but his mind cleared in an instant. His daughter looked exhausted, and she had tied her hair back into a very messy ponytail at some point in the last… however long. Kaiden was sitting beside them both, eyes wide as he stared past them. 

“Are you okay?” Nero said, glancing between the two. Then he saw it; the raging inferno engulfing a house he didn’t recognize. Growls of demons echoed in the distance, but he didn’t sense any nearby. Any that had been caught in the fire were long gone. But something tugged at Nero’s mind. This wasn’t a memory… but...

When Nero’s gaze fell on the young, white haired boy sprinting into the forest, his instincts kicked in. “Wait!” He yanked Kaiden to his feet with his wings and the three chased after the boy. Angelica was the fastest, as she practically leapt into the forest with her demonic energy and disappeared from Nero’s sight. A terrified yelp mixed with a mixture of “I'm trying to help!” and “Stop it!” echoed through the trees. Nero caught up and dispatched the nameless demons within seconds. 

“Grandfather,” Kaiden breathed. 

Nero didn’t want to believe it, but the sword in the boy’s hand was undeniable.  _ Yamato.  _

“Get away from me!” Child Vergil shouted as he yanked himself out of Angelica’s grasp. She stumbled, hitting the ground as he took off again, even faster than before. 

“Dammit!” She hissed rolling to her feet. “Dad…”

“We have to follow him,” Kaiden said, but his voice was all wrong. His words seemed… empty in a way Nero couldn’t describe. Tired? Maybe. But his body wasn’t swaying and his eyes were as sharp as ever. It was almost as if he was talking from a distance. A voice removed from its body. 

“Kai…”

“We have to go!”

When Kaiden took off, Nero had no choice but to follow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: [ZenithLux](https://zenithlux.tumblr.com/)  
> Twitter[@LuxZenith](https://twitter.com/LuxZenith)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone's problems get just a little bit worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay (as some of you know, things have been... difficult the last few weeks). But things are back in full swing! I won't say any definite days that this will be posted, but my goal is to have it done within the next month (most likely). 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy! :D

It took less than a minute for Vergil to realize that he and Dante were in way over their heads. And while his demon half bristled at the thought, even it was wary of this unfamiliar, other-self. This man turned monster was far beyond what Vergil had ever been while trapped in that suit. 

Ashira had seen the other ways he should have died. Fitting that he had to face down the one that hadn’t; the one who’s survival was probably the worst of them all. 

Unfortunately for Vergil’s ego - or fortunately for his sanity - Dante was the one actually fighting. There hadn’t been a conversation on the matter. In fact, Dante was eerily silent. No jabs or sarcasm. No calls to Vergil or attempts at banter. His entire demeanor was deadly serious, and any other demon would have crumbled by now. 

But Nelo… Nelo seemed impervious to everything. Every attack bounced off. His own strikes were blindingly quick. Dante had triggered for about half a second but had been forced out of it as it had done more damage to the building than the armor. He moved better than Vergil could recall as if the suit was nothing more than a second skin.

Vergil flinched at the memory, pulling himself further away. He could feel it. The armor digging into his skin like hundreds of daggers slicing straight to the bones. He jerked his hand away, realizing that his own claws had cut through him without him realizing it. The wounds faded, but his heart didn’t stop. 

He knew this feeling too; panic. He hadn’t experienced it too much himself, but he’d helped Ashira through numerous attacks over the years. He realized somewhat bitterly that experience might actually be hurting him now, as he knew what to expect. His heart raced out of control. His skin felt clammy. His hands would be shaking if they weren’t clenched into fists. Everything was closing in, even as he tried to tell himself otherwise. Maybe if he didn’t know, it would be easier to handle.

But it wasn’t.

He was drowning in what he thought he’d long gotten over. 

And Ashira wasn’t here to pull him out.

“Verge!” Dante yelled between strikes. “Stay with me!” 

Vergil shuddered, trying to refocus his mind. “Walk through the steps!” Dante shouted again. “Figure out what we need to do.”

_Steps… the steps. Right._ Vergil had tried the front door but hadn’t been surprised to find it sealed shut by magical means. He knew he couldn’t break it, and had a feeling that whatever had sent them here wanted something else. He’d done a quick scan of the library from where they were and knew for certain that Pythagoras was long gone. Dead or missing, it didn’t matter. This was no longer his library. 

_Find the sword._

Vergil blinked backward instinctively, narrowly avoiding a swipe from Yamato. Dante intervened on the second strike, grunting as Nelo pushed back. “Go, Verge,” Dante said. “Find those…” He hissed in slight pain, before knocking Nelo away. “Find the pieces for that thing upstairs.”

That was the most logical thing to do, but Vergil hesitated. Everything felt wrong. Was this the only Nelo? If he had defeated Dante in this “timeline” or “world”, then what happened to Dante? Where was Mundus? How long did they have before he showed up?

“Stay with me!” Dante repeated, his voice louder than before. “I can’t have you off in another world right now!” As he swung his Devil Sword again, Yamato parried it. In the half-second it took Dante to recover, Rebellion was already diving toward his chest. 

Vergil surged forward without thinking. His demon form slammed into Nelo, throwing him across the room. The armor hit the wall but landed back on its feet as if nothing had happened. Vergil threw as many spectral swords as he could manage to block the creature’s path and reached for a feather. _No,_ he told himself. The fire wouldn’t work on him, and he couldn’t waste them so soon. 

“This way,” He said as he blinked back onto the second floor. “Dante!”

“You want me to just leave him?”

Vergil’s words caught in his throat. Logically, Dante should stay here. Vergil was certain he could keep Nelo occupied. But his heart… his head… his panic…

“Yes,” Vergil said. “We can’t risk it.”

_I need you._

Dante was by his side in an instant. “You know,” He said with a weary grin. “This is the first time we’ve run from anything.”

“I suggest we do it well,” Vergil said. Two more spectral swords knocked Nelo out of the sky, and the twins took off into the stacks before he had a chance to recover. 

* * *

Nero had known of Angelica’s growing demonic powers, but even he was shocked at how quickly she flew through the trees. And sure, he could have easily kept up, but Kaiden - who was both much slower and had yet to leave his odd trance - would be a sitting duck if anything found him. And, as much as Nero hated being away from either of them in situations like this, he didn’t have much of a choice. Angelica was smart. She could fight. And if she needed help, she would come back to him. And if anyone could catch the astoundingly quick child Vergil in this mess, it was her. 

Focusing on his son was the best thing he could do.

“Kaiden,” He said as they kept an easy pace; a light jog for hybrids that most humans could never keep up with. But when Kaiden didn’t answer, Nero finally leaped in front of him, stopping a collision with his wings. “Kaiden,” he repeated, but the teen stared straight past him as if he’d left the world completely. And Nero realized with a twinge of horror that this was the exact same look Ashira had had before she’d vanished through her own portal. 

“What do you see?” Nero said. He knew it was a shot in the dark, as he hadn’t actually known what had happened to Ashira during her own trance. But both of hers had been quick, and she had nearly collapsed both times. Kaiden… he was still moving. Still running. And Nero didn’t know what else to do. “You can tell me.”

“We have to find him,” Kaiden said, his voice still hollow.

“Listen to me,” Nero said. “Whatever’s got a hold of you, you need to get away from it. Fight back, Kaiden. You’re _my_ son, and I know you can do it.” He didn’t know if his words were even reaching the teen, but he prayed to whoever was listening that something was working. “Please,” He whispered almost without thinking.

After another moment, Kaiden’s eyes snapped back to clarity. He stumbled forward, but Nero caught him in a tight hug. “Dad,” Kaiden whispered, his voice shaky. And that almost scared Nero more, as his son hadn’t called him anything but ‘father’ in years. 

“It’s okay,” Nero said as he pulled Kaiden closer. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

“I saw something.”

Nero pulled back slowly, wings still on Kaiden’s shoulders. But his son’s hands fell into his own, still shaking. Nero squeezed them gently, a gesture neither of them had experienced since Kaiden was a child. “What was it?”

Kaiden hesitated, uncertain. “An egg,” He whispered. “A giant white egg. And there was a man beside it, but someone I’d never seen before.” He shook his head, baffled. “I don’t understand it, dad. I don’t know what it means. Why?”

“GET AWAY FROM ME!”

Nero’s head snapped to the side as Vergil’s voice echoed through the forest. Angelica’s voice followed quickly after- “listen to me, dammit!” - and Nero looked back to Kaiden. “Are you alright?” Kaiden nodded, so Nero continued.“I promise we’ll figure this out.”

Kaiden watched him, his eyes clouded with doubt. Nero didn’t blame him. He still didn’t have a clue where they were or why they were here. He was in the past, yes, but it didn’t feel right. Surely them meeting Vergil _now_ would change something in his own future. But his memory was still the same. All three of them were still here. But what would happen if they kept going? What if they simply hadn’t done enough? Would Nero know at what point to stop? And even if he could protect Vergil… should he? Or was he supposed to sit by and watch?

“Dad,” Kaiden whispered. “We have to help him.” His eyes drifted in the direction of Angelica’s voice. She and Vergil were fighting now, and Nero could hear the occasional clang of metal on metal. “I don’t know why, but I just… I just feel like…” His voice trailed off again, and Nero could see the terror in his son’s eyes. So, he pulled Kaiden close and kissed his forehead. Kaiden froze, and Nero could feel his own cheeks heating up. But then his son’s arm wrapped around Nero’s back, and his muscles relaxed. 

After a long moment of silence, Nero pulled away and met Kaiden’s gaze. “I trust you,” Nero said. “Let‘s go.”

* * *

It didn’t take long to find Angelica, but Nero wasn’t certain whether to be proud that she had her future grandfather in a chokehold, or horrified. “What happened to talking?” Nero said as he pried them apart. Vergil jerked away, but Kaiden slipped in front of him. “Hold on, Verge,” Nero said.

“Go away!” Vergil said, but his voice wavered. It felt so strange seeing his _father_ like this. Young. Inexperienced. Terrified. Running for his life. Had he forgotten Ashira already? Nero didn’t know that story as well as he probably should. “How do you… I don’t…”

“Wait,” Kaiden said as he lowered himself to one knee. Vergil took a step back as he clutched Yamato to his chest like a teddy bear. Hadn’t he just gotten it? Nero wasn’t certain. Vergil hadn’t talked much about this part of his life, and now Nero was regretting not asking more questions. But he watched in silence as Kaiden snapped his fingers and a golden feather appeared in his palm. Vergil’s eyes widened in some mix of confusion and recognition. “Do you remember?” Kaiden said quietly. “Shira?”

Vergil took another step back, eyes flickering to Nero before he stopped short. “I don’t know what…” He frowned, standing a bit taller. “Who?”

“She was your friend,” Kaiden said. 

“Kai…” Nero didn’t know the dangers of telling a much younger Vergil about a girl he was supposed to have forgotten. But considering the three of them were talking to him at all… maybe that ship had already sailed. 

“I don’t…” Vergil’s voice trailed off. “I don’t… remember…” He took another step back. “My family… they’re all…” Tears filled the corners of his eyes, but Nero saw him stubbornly attempt to blink them away. “I can’t stay here. I have to…”

“Take this,” Kaiden said as he held the feather out. “It’ll protect you.”

Vergil’s expression turned dark. “Nothing can protect me.”

“We can,” Angelica said. “We’re close to Redgrave, right Dad? We can find help there.”

“No!” Vergil said sharply. “I need to get to Fortuna.”

“I can get us there,” Nero said as he held his hand out. “But I’ll need that sword.”

He wasn’t surprised when Vergil yanked both himself and Yamato away. Angelica was behind him in an instant. “Don’t make me chase you down again,” She said with a scowl to rival Vergil’s own. 

“You can’t have it,” He said. “It’s… It’s mine. I won’t let you take it from me.”

“I know you’re scared…” Nero said.

“I’m not scared!”

“But you’re going to have to trust me.”

“I will do no such thing.”

“Oh come on,” Angelica groaned. “Why couldn’t we have met an older one?”

Vergil’s eyes widened as Nero glared at her. “Not the time,” He hissed. But before Vergil or anyone else could question her, low gurgles echoed behind them. _Demons._ Nero reached for Red Queen as Angelica unsheathed her own. “Stay with him, Kai,” Nero said. He could feel the portals opening all around them, followed by every demon noise he’d ever heard, overlapping themselves in an endless wave of nonsensical sounds. Could he fight them all off? He knew Vergil had taken down a dozen or so on his own, but Nero wasn’t certain if that had already happened, or if they were stopping it. 

Did it matter?

He didn’t have the answer to that either. 

But he did know one thing. He would never, no matter the circumstances, risk the lives of his own children.

“Quick,” He said beckoning to Angelica. “We have to go.” 

“But…”

“Angelica.”

She pouted for about a second before sheathing her sword and turning to the others. “You heard him, boys.”

“Take it,” Kaiden whispered, neither him nor Vergil looking her way. “You’ll feel much better. I promise.” Though hesitant, Vergil reached for the feather. It pulsed with energy as it brushed his fingertips, but didn’t dissipate as Nero expected it to. Instead, he closed his palm around it with a curt nod, before tucking it away in his jacket. 

A loud shriek startled them all. “Go!” Nero shouted. 

“But if we can’t use Yamato,” Angelica said. “How are we getting to Fortuna?”

“Run now, talk later!”

* * *

Ashira expected to find a pile of demons hoping to devour whoever dared encroach on their domain. And she wasn’t technically wrong. There were plenty of demons. But none of them moved, even when she landed in an unneeded blaze of glory. The few around her burned, but their charred bodies simply stayed that way. None turned to dust like they should have. Their skin turned black, not bothering to melt. The rest were completely still; frozen in time, just like the members of the castle she had left behind. 

Vergil’s landing was near-silent, but she felt the ripple of energy as he slipped out of his demon form. “Impressive,” She murmured as she leaned toward a demon. “I hadn’t realized how quickly you grew accustomed to that form.”

“Why do you speak of me so fondly?”

She hadn’t meant to laugh. Honest. But that question felt so _absurd._ To hear it in his voice. To remember that he knew nothing about her, and might not have ever even _found_ her in this timeline was just… too much. She wasn’t surprised to see his scowl when she finally calmed herself and glanced back at him. “It’s a simple answer, I suppose,” She said. “But also much more complicated than I think either of us are ready for at the moment.” 

“You’re dodging the question.”

“And you’re ignoring the more important issue.” She waved her hand at the demons around them. “Does anything seem off, Sai…” She caught herself. “Vergil?”

His eyes narrowed for a moment, likely contemplating whether to keep arguing with her, or let it go. And while Ashira knew the conversation was far from over, he did let it go for long enough to investigate one of the unburnt demons nearby. “Stasis,” He said simply. “It’s a power I’ve used on numerous occasions.”

“Not recently.”

That time, he glared at her. And considering the fact that she hadn’t meant to say it, Ashira knew she deserved it. “Geryon can too,” She said. “But not on such a massive scale… so I doubt that’s what we’re dealing with.”

“Your angel is more concerning,” Vergil said. “I’ve never heard of it.”

Neither had the future him. Or anyone around them for that matter. Not a single person, including Pythagoras, could guess what demon would willingly call themselves such a thing. The Angelos were the closest things she could think of, and she hadn’t seen one of those in years. Her Vergil had tracked down every possible source of those things within weeks of taking the throne. And Nelo shouldn’t exist in this timeline if Vergil was right here. Though that was assuming a lot of things about her predicament that she really didn’t know.

“Where would you start, V?” She muttered. 

_“You,”_ Was his reply. _“If this is truly another world, and not simply our past, then finding yourself might give us more information.”_

She couldn’t imagine how that conversation was going to go, but it was worth a shot. “I know a place we could go,” She said. “But…” She froze as a small, blue figure appeared out of the corner of her eye. She jerked her head to the side, but the figure vanished. _“Take it,”_ She heard Kaiden say. _“It’ll protect you.”_

_“We’re close to Redgrave… right Dad?”_

Their voices were so loud and distracting. Each one overlapped in a scene she couldn’t see. A world she wasn’t a part of. A ghost of a young boy seemed to slip in out of reality on a whim, never lingering long enough for her to figure out who it was. But considering her recent nightmares, she had a terrible suspicion. _No._ She thought. _Please… I don’t want to see this._

Another voice - the same, foreign one from her nightmares - echoed in her head. _Your family’s interference is meddlesome._ Agony shot through her. She grabbed for her head, desperate to force out whatever was pulling her apart. She heard Vergil’s voice over the chaos, but the unknown person’s rage pulsed in her ears. _I will not fail! I cannot fail! You will not fail me!_ Somewhere over the pain, the demons around her surged to life. The burnt ones crumbled to dust. The others lunged toward them. She reached for Yamato, but her vision blurred before she could. She lurched away as a fury’s claw narrowly missed her face. She hit the ground hard. Her glasses flew off. The world went dark. She summoned any flames she could, but knew it wasn’t enough. 

_Hold on, Ashira._ Another voice- the same voice? She didn’t know anymore. It was all the same at this point - whispered. _Just a little longer. I promise._

Suddenly, the world went silent. Ashira stared at the flickering demon souls in surprise as Vergil reappeared in front of her. He very slowly sheathed his weapon, staring straight at her as he did so. The second it clicked, the souls around her vanished, and she heard the flesh of numerous demons hit the ground. But when she tried to thank him, her chest seized with panic. “No, no, no,” She said. “I can’t… not without…” 

_Vergil._

A hand gripped her shoulder. “Ashira,” A voice said. She couldn’t look up. She didn’t want to hear anyone else. Too many voices. Too many people. Her heart pounded against her ribcage. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t… she couldn’t do…

“Ashira!”

She blinked as her eyes met Vergil’s. When had she grabbed his jacket? Or him, for that matter? What was he... 

“Breathe.”

She did, and the world retreated. Air slowly filled her lungs. Her heartbeat returned to normal. But her vision didn’t. “My glasses…” She said. 

“Shattered,” Vergil said. Ashira took another breath, quelling another bout of panic before it had a chance to consume her. “You’re a demon, are you not?”

“My sight never healed,” She said simply as she tried to stand. But her legs gave out, and she found herself tumbling straight into Vergil’s arms. She uttered more than a few curses in her Phoenix tongue, and Vergil’s eyebrows furrowed before she remembered that he could still understand her. Too many things to keep track of. “Sorry.”

“You’re blind.”

“Technically.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means we need to keep going.”

“You can’t even stand.”

“I have to!” She snapped. “I can’t… I can’t watch another…”

Vergil sighed, but she wasn’t certain if it was frustration or something else. “Come on,” He said as he held his hand out. She took it, but found herself on his back a second later. She blinked, bewildered. Her Vergil could catch her off guard whenever he wanted. But this Vergil… 

Her mind was too hazy to finish that sentence. 

“You want to know why I speak of you so fondly?” She murmured as her head fell to his shoulder. He said nothing as he stood up, adjusting her arms until they hung somewhat clumsily around his neck. 

“Do one of your familiars know where we’re going?” He said.

Her fingers twitched as she tugged on the closest familiar she could find. Shadow manifested at their feet, purring as she rubbed her muzzle on Vergil’s leg. He stared at her for a moment, before shaking his head. “V can help too,” She said. “He knows the way as well as I do.”

Again, Vergil said nothing as he followed after a very confident Shadow. Ashira wished she could stay awake and remove this awkwardness blooming in her chest. Did he feel some connection to her? It was possible. Soulmates were often aware of each other long before anything happened between them. A feeling of comfort that was difficult to explain. And she knew he was lonely. Her own Vergil had admitted that once he was comfortable enough to share such things with her. Maybe that’s why he was humoring her. Or maybe he felt there was no other choice. 

_I’ll be there soon,_ A voice whispered. _Just hold on a little longer._

“Why is it,” Vergil said. “That you speak so fondly of me?”

Ashira sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got plenty of time.”

She chuckled. “If I had a dollar for every time I heard you say that…”

“Tell me,” He said. “What I mean to you.”

“Promise you won’t drop me?”

He scoffed. “You say that as if I have a choice.”

“Technically…”

“I won’t.”

She pressed her forehead against his back, contemplating where to even start. So many stories together. So much time spent apart, and even more spent married. Their life on the throne… his relationship with his son… Mundus’s defeat and everything he’d overcome. What could she say that would give this man here - this Vergil hurting from years of untold suffering - hope?

“In my world,” She said slowly. “You’re a king.”

“Is that so?”

She nodded. “It took a long time to get there, though. So maybe it’s best to start at the beginning… the day that you and I met for what you thought was the first time, right at this spot under the remnants of the Qliphoth tree…”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone finds what they are looking for, one way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four months. I... uhh... well...
> 
> It's been a rough four months. But it's here. Finally. The continuation of A/O. 
> 
> I really hope you enjoy it, and the next one will be up a lot faster this time. Promise.

Nero had been incredibly hopeful that this version of his father would be much less stubborn. 

How naive that thought had been. 

“We’re trying to help you,” Angelica said for what felt like the millionth time in the last fifteen minutes they’d been walking. 

“You’re lucky I’m letting you walk with me at all,” Vergil hissed, still holding Yamato like an oddly shaped teddy bear. It might have been cute if their entire future, lives, and whatever else was going on didn’t depend on Nero using it himself.

“Oh for fuck’s…”

“Language.” Nero barked without thinking.

If looks could kill he’d be dead in the ground. “Look,” Angelica tried again. “We know something special about that sword that you don’t.”

“And I told you to feel free to tell me.” Vergil snapped. 

“We have to show you.”

“And I told you no.”

“This is pointless,” Kaiden muttered. “Why don’t you just take it from him?”

Nero had considered that, but he still wasn’t certain what such a thing would do. Did Vergil have a little demon form? Would he attack them? Would he have to fight his own, pint-sized father? Would Vergil remember all of this? If he did, Nero was more than ready to give him a piece of his mind. “Look,” Nero said, stepping in front of them. “I know you’re confused and scared.”

“I am not…”

“But there’s someone that we need you to meet,” Nero interrupted. “A friend of your father’s.”

Vergil’s scowl quivered slightly. “What do you know about my father?”

“If you let me borrow that,” Nero said, pointing to Yamato, “then the guy we’re going to take you to can tell you everything you need to know.” At least, he hoped that was the case. Nero had a feeling that Pythagoras was just as likely to slam the door in their faces than speak to them, but he had to give him a shot. 

“Where is this man?”

“He’s a demon name Pythagoras,” Nero said. “I don’t think he has a door in Redgrave, but he does have one in Fortuna.”

“And how do you expect us to get to Fortuna?”

Angelica looked ready to slap him. Though, to be fair to her, she hadn’t yet. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” She said. “We can use Yamato to get there.”

After a long, tense moment in which Vergil’s eyes darted between all three of them - and Nero thought he was about to have to chase him through the city - he finally,  _ finally,  _ held Yamato out. “If you don’t give it back…” His voice quivered, and Nero knew he didn’t have anything to back that sentence up with. He gave him points for trying though. 

“I will,” Nero promised. As he unsheathed it. The blade looked a bit different than he remembered. An old wrap or handle? Maybe. Who knows what happened to it before Vergil put himself back together. But it was just as sharp as always, and Nero could feel the gentle thrum of power from its core. Slowly, he envisioned Fortuna, hoping that his memories of his childhood would be enough to get them there in Vergil’s. When he sliced through the air, a clumsy portal appeared. He heard Vergil gasp as Nero resheathed the blade, satisfied as he handed it back. “You first,” Nero said, praying he wasn’t about to get them all killed. 

Vergil stepped through, followed by the kids. “Damn, Dad,” Angelica said from the other side. “You’ve gotten pretty good at this.” 

Nero rolled his eyes and followed after them, appearing right in front of the blank wall that should have been Pythagoras’ doorway. He hesitated, uncertain whether the demons would even be here. 

“Father,” Kaiden said. “Look.”

Nero glanced behind him, surprised to see that the people in the streets were frozen, just like the members of the castle. “What the hell is going on?” Nero muttered. 

“Language,” Angelica snarked. 

“Oh shut up.”

“About time you showed up.”

All four of them jumped, spinning around as Pythagoras glared at them. “You’ve caused enough problems as it is.”

“You know what’s going on?”

Pythagoras sighed, rubbing his temples. “I sure wish I didn’t.”

* * *

Vergil realized very quickly that he was abysmal at running away from things. It went against every fiber of his being, and his demon half was simultaneously furious that they were running and annoyed over what they were running from. 

His human half… well… he tried not to think about that too much. 

At least he was still aware of his surroundings, as he never could have torn that library apart as precisely as he was. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but he hoped he’d know when he saw it. Unfortunately, it was hard to focus on the task at hand when the powered up remnant of a past (current?) life was hunting him. They were doing a great job of evading Nelo at least, and more than one time had been throw as a distraction. Vergil could just imagine Pythagoras’s death glare at the destruction of his library if they ever saw him again. But now wasn’t the time to think about that. 

“Verge!” Dante yelled from across the way, throwing his arm up in triumph. “I found one!” But before Vergil could see what it was, a sword slashed through the closest bookshelf. Dante jumped to dodge it, then kicked the shelf over. It dropped on Nelo, but the brothers took off before he could recover.

“Where did you find it?”

“In a book.” Dante tossed a small, gray block to Vergil before the two split up again. It was pie-shaped and fit in Vergil’s palm. On the top was a black symbol to match the others on the picture.  _ A book…  _ That did explain why the library was trashed before they’d gotten to it. But what did Nelo or Mundus hope to gain by finding these pieces? What was hidden behind that symbol? “Two more,” Vergil said as they split up again, tearing through books. He found the second one hiding in a corner-  _ black -  _ and touched it away.  _ One more _ , he thought, but they were running out of books. Had they missed it? Now that they actually knew what they were looking for, it shouldn’t be too hard to…

Suddenly, Dante leaped across the aisle and threw up the Devil Sword. Yamato collided with it as the bookshelf fell to pieces. Vergil summoned a barrage of summoned swords, but Nelo’s armor was strong enough to withstand it. Dante knocked Yamato away, only for Nelo to swing with Rebellion. As Dante blocked that one and ducked under Yamato, Vergil saw it; a white feather block embedded into Rebellion’s hilt. The last piece of the puzzle attached to an enemy they weren’t sure they could defeat.

_ Wonderful.  _

“Dante,” Vergil said.

“Yep,” Dante grunted. “I see it,” He triggered, tossing Nelo away before chasing after him. But when Vergil moved to do the same, pain shot through his skull. He flinched, stumbling backward as he grabbed for his head.  _ What now? _

_ Find the sword.  _ A voice whispered.

_ The sword.  _ A second, more feminine voice sang.

_ The sword.  _ A third, deeper voice said. 

His vision blurred. “Get out of my head.”

_ We can’t do that,  _ The voices said. Were they the same voices from before? He hadn’t noticed the multiple layers, but the third was certainly familiar.  _ “You are the convergence; our only hope.”  _

“Enough!” Vergil snapped. “Just tell me…”

_ “The sword,”  _ They whispered again.  _ “Find the sword.”  _

“Which one!”

The voices said nothing, but Vergil swore he could hear the command echoing in the back of his mind. Which sword? Yamato? Rebellion? He’d already figured out the last piece was in the latter, so what was the point of telling him this? All it was now was a distraction. How did he get Nelo to drop Rebellion? How did he destroy it to pull out the puzzle piece? Dante was fully triggered and barely making a dent in the armor, and Vergil could feel an oppressive air slowly choking him. Was Nelo strong enough to do something like that? Vergil didn’t have a clue what Mundus could have accomplished without Dante to get in his way. But they had to kill him. Whatever creature this Nelo had become, Vergil didn’t think they could escape with him alive. 

_ Will Ashira see this one too? _

“Vergil!” Dante roared, swiping numerous swords of fire in Nelo’s direction. “Got a plan?”

_ No,  _ Vergil thought, but he wasn’t about to admit it. But he knew that body once. Knew its weaknesses, even though he would never have admitted it. Were they still the same? Maybe if this Nelo never lost, then Mundus would never have had a reason to change him. Not that he bothered with Vergil. The former (current?) demon king had been more than happy to abandon his little pet to endless torture for losing such a battle. But maybe… just maybe.

“The joints,” Vergil said. “The armor had to be weakened at certain points to actually move.”

“It’s all fused now,” Dante said. “I can hear the armor creaking every time this thing moves.”

Vergil didn’t know why the term ‘this thing’ made him flinch. “But that’s where it’ll be the weakest,” He said. “We might be able to break it.”

“It’ll take some time,” Dante said. “This thing’s the hardest shit I’ve ever tried to carve through.”

“I need Rebellion.”

“That I can probably manage,” Dante parried one attack and swiped at Nelo’s knee caps. The suit of armor dodged back and swung out with both swords. Dante dodged through them, kicked Nelo in the back, and plunged forward. Nelo vanished, appearing behind him, and the dance began again. Dante was strong. Vergil knew he had near limitless stamina, but Nelo didn’t seem any weaker than before. Maybe he’d get through him eventually, but they didn’t have all day to fight. 

_ The chandelier. _

His eyes flickered to the ceiling as an idiotic plan filled his mind.  _ There’s no way this will work,  _ He said, shaking his head as he leaped on top of it. The chandelier swayed, and Vergil silently thanked Pythagoras’ gaudy tastes for making something so impossibly large as the centerpiece of his library. He swiped a summoned sword through the first chain, but it took a few more hits than he would have liked. Demonically reinforced steel. Yamato would have cut through that in a heartbeat. He pulled on his demon form, but not enough to draw any attention. Summoned swords shattered. Chain after chain broke. The chandelier swayed back and forth, and the blue flames that flickered on each garish, multi-point candle seemed to grow brighter and brighter. Finally, once all the outside chains were done, Vergil shot for hte middle. “Move, Dante!” He snapped as he tore it apart, blinking away. Dante shoved Nelo back, darting away as the chandelier crashed into the suit. One of the sharp edges plunged through his right elbow, tearing through the weakened piece of armor. His arm, and the sword in it, fell to the side. Dante shattered Rebellion tossing the puzzle piece to Vergil. Nelo rose from the ruins, unfazed by the injuries. But his armor was broken in numerous places, but his shattered arm reformed. 

“Go!” Dante yelled. “I’ll deal with him.”

Vergil nodded, ducking back toward the puzzle. Only three pieces were missing, yet he didn’t have a clue which was meant to go where. At least the various combinations wouldn’t take that long to try, but he certainly wouldn’t put it past Pythagoras to have some kind of trap laid for whoever was wrong. He needed to get it first try, or risk far worse consequences. 

_ Something… Blue, Purple, Pink, Orange… Something… Green, Yellow… _

He’d seen this pattern before, but his mind struggled to remember when. The memory was there, hovering on the edge of his mind. But he couldn’t quite reach it, as if a thick fog were in teh way. 

_ Blue… Purple… _

_ Ashira… Kaiden? _

The image of the Pheonix statue popped into his mind. _Of course._ He rushed to place the last three, his mind drifting to the flowers Ashira had mentioned before all of this. _What does it all mean?_ He thought, placing the last, white feather piece into the slot. A light spread through all of them, shifting around in the star shape. As it finished, it flashed and cracked open from the center. Vergil flinched, looking away until the light faded and he could finally see what big, important thing Mundus and his other self were looking for. 

His heart plummeted as his gaze met the dull, bichromatic ones on the other side. 

“Vergil,” Ashia whispered, the chains around her body clinking together as she tried to raise her head. “No… its not you… is it. Not my Vergil…” Her eyes closed as her head sagged again. “They told me you’d never be the same again.”

“Who?”

“Moirai,” She whispered. 

Vergil recognized that name. “The Goddesses of Fate?”

“The voices that keep speaking to you.” 

* * *

Ashira didn’t know how long they had been walking for, but it was long enough that she had run out of stories to tell. Her mouth had gone dry four tales ago, and her voice had finally given out halfway through her riveting tale of the day Vergil left to wipe out the entire Angelo population. 

But the more she told, the more she knew he believed her, though she wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it. There were still too many questions that she didn’t have any answers to. She’d answered the relatively few he had, but it didn’t get them any closer to understanding what was happening. 

She hoped there would be more answers at her home, but the trip had already taken a ridiculous amount of time. Three days, tops. Though she wasn’t sure she could count the days when time itself seemed to be frozen. Nothing moved anymore, and the demons hadn’t sprung to life again. The demonic moon never fell, though Ashira knew that could take weeks or longer even when things were normal. The leaves only moved if they walked near them, and remained suspended whenever they did. There was no breeze, leaving the air stale that somehow didn’t smell like anything. Even Vergil had theorized that they were in some kind of temporal stasis. Why it didn’t affect them was a theory that baffled him as much as her existence did. “It could have been created before we entered.” He said. 

“But wouldn’t we have noticed walking through it?

He didn’t have an answer to that. If this was her Vergil, they would have fake argued over it for a few minutes, with him denying his lack of knowledge and her teasing him until he gave in. He wouldn’t admit he was wrong, but he might kiss her to shut her up. But this wasn’t him, and it was becoming harder for her to remember that. She wanted her Vergil back. She wanted her world back, but she didn’t know how to get it. 

Finally, they arrived at the familiar empty clearing. She stopped him just shy of smacking straight into the barrier. “I’ve got it,” She said as she slid off his back. She knew now the magic her father had used to make it. But her past self had only figured out how to leave years after Vergil did. But this world might be different. Had she already left? Would they find anything in her home? Was this entire trip pointless?

“Calm,” Vergil said, arms crossed. “You’re shaking.”

Ashira sighed but sucked in a deep breath as she placed her hand against the barrier. It rippled under her touch, and a small pulse of magic opened it. Before them sat a grassy expanse stretching out to her old home on the horizon. In the center, however, was a body sitting upright, with rich black hair and an outfit Ashira had once made herself. “It’s me,” She said as they stepped through. Fear mingled with exhilaration as she stepped forward. “Shira!” She yelled, caution gone to the wind. “I know this is crazy but…”

Vergil yanked her back, startling her. “What?” 

“Blood,” He said simply, not looking at her. But when she paused to question him, she smelt it to; the undeniable stench of fresh blood. “Ashira?” She said quietly, approaching her still form with a new sense of trepidation. Her other self didn’t move, even as Ashira herself reached for her shoulder. “Hey… It’s…”

She stumbled away as the body tumbled backward, its throat slashed. A deep chuckle echoed around her. “Poor, lost soul,” A familiar, female voice whispered. “Another death… another you.”

Then, the world shattered. 


End file.
